CHAPTER 1- ACT 'N TIDE
December 1st, 2000.
The day the Salvador family’s joy died.
The sun was warm.
The island was alive.
Laughter rolled across the yard like music.
Poppa T lifted his glass, grinning.
“Haha! This wine tastes splendid, right, Odette?”
Odette giggled softly.
“Yes, Poppa. Yes.”
Gabriel jumped to his feet, pointing at Poppa T with a wicked smile.
“I got one! You said you wanted a man who can cook… but the one you got only makes mistakes!”
The family exploded with laughter.
Matt laughed too—harder than he had in months.
For one moment, everything was perfect.
Bright.
Safe.
Whole.
He didn’t know it was the last time he’d ever hear them laugh.
---
The sound changed.
A low rumble.
Engines.
Close.
Too close.
Poppa T frowned and turned toward the trees.
“That’s strange…”
Odette’s smile fell.
“That’s not the wind.”
Matt felt it—something cold sliding down his spine.
Shadows moved.
Fast.
Silent.
Deadly.
Men in black.
Guns raised.
Gabriel screamed.
“Mom! Dad!”
Then the world split open.
Gunfire.
Screams.
Chaos.
Matt tried to run, but the air felt thick, like the world didn’t want to let him escape.
He reached the side of the house just as a body dropped behind him.
---
Then he heard it.
A voice he knew better than his own heartbeat.
His mother.
“Matt—!”
A gunshot cut her cry in half.
Matt staggered behind a tree, the bark scraping his face.
He didn’t breathe.
He didn’t blink.
He just listened.
Footsteps.
Rustling.
The killers were searching the yard.
“We’re not done,” one growled.
Matt bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.
He curled deeper into the shadows.
They were close—too close.
One of them stepped beside his hiding spot, boots inches away from Matt’s trembling hand.
Then—
A scream.
“NO! PLEASE!”
Gabriel.
Matt squeezed his eyes shut right as another shot rang out.
Then silence.
Cold.
Dead.
Final.
---
“We’re finished here,” one of the killers muttered.
“No,” another whispered. “Someone else is alive. I heard movement.”
Matt’s chest tightened.
The leader’s phone rang.
He answered immediately.
“Are you done?”
A voice—deep, calm, merciless.
The gunmen shared a look.
“Yes,” the leader lied.
“We’re done.”
“Leave. Now.”
Engines roared.
The men vanished as quickly as they came.
---
Matt stepped out slowly.
The villa was gone.
The laughter was gone.
His family… was gone.
Smoke curled into the darkening sky.
Ash settled over the sand like a quiet snowfall.
Matt walked toward the shore, his legs shaking with every step.
He found them where the tide met the land:
His mother’s apron.
Gabriel’s broken kite.
Poppa T’s shattered glass.
Everything that once lived… washed away.
Matt dropped to his knees.
The wind carried the scent of gunpowder and burning wood.
That smell would follow him for the rest of his life.
He was fourteen.
Alone.
And suddenly older than the sea itself.
As the sun bled into the water, Matt whispered the only promise his broken voice could form:
“I’ll survive.
And I’ll make them pay.”
