Chapter 5 - The Silver-Haired Visitor
The name Victoria dropped into the room like a detonated explosive.
My head spun, a violent wave of nausea washing over me as my brain violently tried to bridge the impossible gap between the quiet suburban housewife I thought I was and the ghost the silver-haired man was addressing.
"I don't know you," I choked out, pressing my back flat against the monitor screen as the agents closed in, forming an impenetrable wall of steel and tactical webbing.
"Of course you don't," the man replied, taking a slow step forward into the harsh fluorescent light. His shoes crunched casually over the shattered glass on the floor. "Daniel was very thorough with his neuro-suppression formulas. He kept you docile, cooperative, and safely tucked away in his little suburban dollhouse while the rest of us tore the city apart looking for the ledger your father hid before his execution."
Daniel’s jaw tightened, a dangerous vein throbbing at his temple. "Keep her out of this, Arthur. This was between you and me the night the pier went up."
"Nothing is just between us anymore, old friend," Arthur smiled, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. He raised his hand, and two agents stepped forward, grabbing Daniel by the shoulders and forcing him roughly down onto his knees against the concrete floor.
Daniel didn't resist. His dark eyes flicked toward me for a fraction of a second, carrying a final, silent message I couldn't yet decode.
"Secure the perimeter and download the local server archives," Arthur ordered without breaking eye contact with me. He pulled a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt and tossed them onto the workbench near the bowl of soup. "And bring Victoria with us. The council wants to welcome the prodigal daughter home."
Before I could scream, two heavy hands grabbed my arms from behind, pinning my elbows against my sides. I kicked and thrashed, my eyes locked on Daniel as he knelt helplessly on the floor, surrounded by armed men.
May you like
As the agents dragged me backward toward the dark, shattered entrance of the house, Arthur picked up the white bowl of soup from the workbench, dipped his finger into the dark liquid, tasted it, and laughed.
"A bit heavy on the inhibitor tonight, weren't you, Daniel?" Arthur mocked, turning toward the door. "Pity she's about to wake up to a world she's going to wish she never remembered."
