Chapter 4

"Twenty-eight thousand? Are you kidding me?"

Marcus's angry voice came from upstairs, cutting through the thin concrete ceiling. Every word hammered against my temples.

The residual effects of the sedative hadn't fully cleared. My mind was like foggy glass—clear one second, blurry the next.

Hazel crouched beside me, pinching the skin between my thumb and index finger.

"It's almost two... you told me to wake you..."

I opened my eyes.

There were no windows in the basement, so I couldn't see the light outside, but my internal clock told me it was time.

The shouting upstairs was getting louder.

The tattooed man's voice was booming. "The buyers said the final price is seven hundred grand. Your cut of twenty-eight thousand is too high! Vanessa won't agree to this either."

"Vanessa? Who does she think she is?" Marcus threw something, and the sound of breaking glass shattered the air. "She's a sick woman who sold out her own family. She doesn't get to demand anything from me!"

"If you're going to be like that, I'll call Vanessa right now—"

"Go ahead! Call her and see if you ever get another job from me!"

Upstairs, tables and chairs were being flipped over. The cursing escalated into a full-blown brawl.

I didn't care about their petty fight.

My fingers slid into my pocket, finding the thin plastic card. My nail dug into the tiny recessed button on the edge.

But I didn't press it yet.

One more step.

I needed to make sure Melanie had arrived.

As if the universe was playing along with my countdown, footsteps hurried down the stairs.

Marcus came down, cursing under his breath. He shoved his phone through the iron bars.

"Your sister-in-law wants a video call. She wants to make sure you're still breathing. Let me warn you, don't try anything stupid."

The screen lit up.

Vanessa's face filled half the screen. Behind her was an upscale outdoor cafe. She was holding a cup of iced coffee.

"Chloe, look at yourself."

She took a sip of her coffee, her tone as casual as if she were talking about the weather.

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest, and your face is covered in dirt. Weren't you always the clean one when you were a kid? Your mom used to braid your hair every day. Look at you now."

I didn't say a word.

The camera tilted, and the phone was handed to someone else.

Melanie.

Her round, chubby face appeared on the screen. Her lips were painted a bright, tacky red, and she was wearing a brand-new white designer shirt. The tag was still tucked in.

"Hey, Chloe," she said, spinning the camera around to show a suitcase.

"Brand new. Two thousand six hundred dollars. Your brother bought it for me."

Then she brought the camera back to her face, a massive grin stretching from ear to ear.

"I'm at the airport right now. A first-class ticket to New York!"

"I told my aunt that as soon as I get to campus, I'm going to post a TikTok. The caption will be: 'West Point, here I come!' What do you think?"

She was practically glowing with smugness.

"Oh, by the way, Chloe. Was your photo on the admission letter taken in high school? I just got the exact same haircut. Do we look alike?"

She leaned her face closer to the screen, flashing a peace sign.

They didn't look alike at all. Vanessa had said her niece got fillers to look seventy percent like me.

But looking at her now, she barely looked fifty percent like me.

Which was perfect. It would make things much easier.

"Alright, alright, my flight is boarding," Vanessa's voice came back as she grabbed the phone. "Chloe, just stay comfortable over there. Your name belongs to my niece now."

"Oh, and your brother wanted me to tell you something—"

"He says he's sorry."

I finally smiled.

In this damp, moldy basement, covered in bruises and bound by ropes, I laughed out loud.

Vanessa was visibly thrown off by my reaction. She frowned. "What are you laughing at?"

I looked down at my bound wrists, then at the card in my pocket.

Then I looked up, staring directly at the two faces on the screen.

"Melanie is boarding now. She'll land in New York around 5:30 PM."

"Registration, submitting documents, and entering the security screening zone... even if she rushes, it will take at least thirty minutes."

"At exactly 6:00 PM, she will be standing in front of the biometric scanner."

Vanessa's expression shifted from confusion to unease.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to confirm the time."

I pressed the button in my pocket.

The smart card gave a faint, almost silent beep against my thigh, followed by a sudden burst of heat.

The chip had fried itself. The emergency distress signal was sent.

Vanessa was still yelling something through the screen, but I couldn't hear her anymore.

The tattooed man unlocked the iron gate, holding a fresh syringe.

"Time's up. Time for your shot. By tomorrow morning, you'll be across the border."

He grabbed my arm, and the needle pierced my skin.

This dose was much stronger.

My mind felt like a building collapsing from the foundation.

As my consciousness faded, I heard Hazel crying softly next to me.

I forced my lips to move, hoping she could hear me.

"They're coming."