Second chance

Chapter12

Chapter 11

Panic, sharp and blinding, surged through her veins.

She didn't have time to properly log out. She slammed her hand onto the power button of the terminal, the screen instantly blacking out.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway - heavy, measured, unmistakable. Leonardo's stride.

Sofia spun around and dove behind the thick crimson velvet drapes flanking the floor-to-ceiling windows, pressing her back flat against the cold glass pane, pulling the heavy folds closed around her just as the heavy oak study doors clicked open.

The sound of Leonardo's footsteps filled the room.

Sofia held her breath, pressing her hand hard over her mouth to stop the sound of her own terrified breathing. Through a tiny gap in the drapes, she could see the edge of the mahogany desk.

Leonardo walked in, wearing his dark tailored overcoat, tossing his leather briefcase onto the center of the walnut surface. He let out a long, exhausted sigh, pulling off his silk tie and tossing it onto a chair.

He walked over to the private bar cart, poured two fingers of dark scotch into a heavy crystal glass, and took a slow swallow. Then, he turned back toward his desk, reaching out to tap the power key on his encrypted terminal.

Sofia closed her eyes, her heart hammering so hard she was certain he could hear it.

Please, don't notice. Please.

A soft electronic chime hummed as the terminal booted back up, prompting for the security PIN. Leonardo frowned slightly, noticing that the system had been hard-rebooted rather than left in sleep mode. He muttered something under his breath, tapped his password, and brought up the active log files.

For thirty agonizing seconds, the room was dead silent save for the quiet clink of ice in his crystal glass.

Sofia's muscles locked in an agonizing cramp behind the drapes. If he checked the access history, he would see that his daughter's best friend had just downloaded his entire international itinerary.

Then, Leonardo's phone buzzed sharply on the desk.

"Yeah? Put the Singapore logistics team on the secure line. I'll take it in the conference room."

He grabbed his briefcase, turned away from the desk, and walked briskly out of the study, pulling the heavy oak doors shut behind him with a firm, echoing click.

The moment the lock engaged, Sofia's knees completely gave out.

She slid down the heavy velvet drapes, collapsing onto the Persian rug behind the desk. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent, wracking sobs. She had survived. She had gotten the files, and she hadn't been caught.

But the victory felt infinitely more sickening than any defeat.

Slowly, shakily, Sofia climbed back to her feet. She slipped out from behind the drapes, crossed the quiet room, and unlocked the study door, stepping back out into the cool, silent corridor.

She walked down the grand staircase, her legs feeling like lead weights, her mind completely hollowed out.

Back in her bedroom, sitting at her small wooden desk in the gathering twilight, Sofia pulled out her dark phone. The clock on the wall read 5:45 PM.

Fifteen minutes until Victor's deadline.

She opened the encrypted messaging app, attached the entire folder of high-resolution photographs she had taken, and added a single, flat line of text:

Everything is here. Leave my mother alone.

Her thumb hovered over the send arrow. For a fraction of a second, she thought about smashing the phone against the wall. But then she heard the distant, rhythmic beep of the hospital monitor - the sound of her mother's fading life hanging by a thread controlled by a monster.

Sofia pressed send.

The little delivery checkmark instantly turned blue.

Almost immediately, her phone vibrated violently. A new message from Victor popped onto the screen.

"A good dog learns her tricks eventually. Enjoy your mother's next twenty-four hours, Sofia. The real game is about to begin."

Sofia dropped the phone onto the desk. She stared at her reflection in the dark, glass windowpane - pale, hollow-eyed, completely unrecognizable.

Downstairs, she could hear Aria calling her name, laughing as she ran up the stairs, asking if she wanted to order pizza and start their movie marathon.

Sofia wiped the remaining tears from her face, took one deep, shuddering breath, and turned around to open the door.

The spy was gone. The storm had arrived.