Chapter 8 - The Price of a Bucket
While Alexander dismantled the District Attorney’s career behind closed doors, Maria was managing a very different kind of operation outside the precinct.
She had brought Elena and Tommy directly to her private midtown apartment, far away from the media circus gathering at the police barricades. The apartment was warm, smelling of cinnamon tea and clean linen—a stark contrast to the damp, corrugated tin of the Shadows.
Tommy sat on the plush velvet sofa, still clutching his plastic bucket of imported soil. He hadn't let go of it once since they left the industrial park.
Elena sat beside him, gently stroking his tangled hair while Maria set a steaming bowl of soup and a plate of fresh sandwiches on the low coffee table.
“You need to eat something, sweetheart,” Elena murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion.
“I'm not hungry, Grandma,” Tommy whispered, his eyes wide and glassy as he stared at the floor. “Are they going to put Mr. Morgan in jail? The men with the badges took him away.”
Maria knelt down beside the sofa, looking directly into the boy’s dark eyes with fierce gentleness. “Tommy, listen to me. Men like Alexander Morgan don't go to jail easily. And more importantly, he made a promise to you this morning. Do you remember what it was?”
Tommy nodded slowly. “To help me bury Mama and sister.”
“That’s right,” Maria said, squeezing his small hand. “And Alexander always keeps his promises. Even if he has to tear down half the city to do it.”
Before Elena could reply, the television mounted on the wall above the fireplace—set to a 24-hour news channel—suddenly flashed with breaking news footage.
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The banner scrolling across the screen read: BREAKING: EMERGENCY AUDIT REVEALS MASSIVE MUNICIPAL FRAUD LINKED TO D.A. STERLING; APEX PROPERTIES CHIEF ISSUES PUBLIC STATEMENT.
Maria stood up quickly, reaching for the remote to turn up the volume as the anchorwoman’s voice filled the quiet room.
