THE GOOD DAUGHTER

Nowhere left to hide

Ethan’s car roared to life, tires spitting gravel as they tore out of the motel parking lot.

The black SUV behind them followed instantly, headlights glaring through the rain.

Clara clutched the duffel bag to her chest, the weight of the flash drive and the photograph pressing against her like a second heartbeat. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere they won’t expect,” Ethan said, eyes locked on the rearview mirror. “If we keep running in circles, they’ll catch us. We need to hit first.”

The SUV closed in, its engine a deep, hungry growl. A window rolled down, and Clara glimpsed the glint of a gun barrel.

“Ethan—!”

He swerved hard, the car jolting onto a side street just as a shot cracked through the night. The bullet shattered the rear windshield, glass spraying over the back seat.

“Get down!” Ethan barked.

Clara ducked, heart pounding, the sound of rain and engines blending into one relentless rush. Ethan pushed the car harder, weaving through narrow alleys until the SUV’s lights finally vanished in the distance.

They didn’t stop until they reached the outskirts of the city, where old warehouses and rusting factories loomed like silent giants. Ethan pulled into the shadow of a crumbling loading dock and killed the engine.

“This buys us a little time,” he said, breathing hard. “We can’t just keep dodging them. We need a plan.”

Clara looked at the flash drive in her hands. “You said this could take them down. So let’s do it. Let’s end this.”

Ethan studied her for a moment, his jaw tightening. “If we go that route, there’s no halfway. We’ll have to go public, make sure it hits the kind of people they can’t silence. And once we start… they’ll come at us with everything they’ve got.”

Clara thought of her mother, of Ben—still hiding something she didn’t understand—and the looming threat of losing everything. She straightened her shoulders.

“Then we make sure we hit harder.”

A faint smile ghosted across Ethan’s lips. “Alright, Good Daughter. Let’s start a war.”