Blood Ties
1334 Words
CHAPTER SIX
The morning after the broadcast, Briar Edge was no longer the quiet, secretive town it had been for decades. Sirens had replaced birdsong. Police cars dotted the streets like chess pieces. Reporters lined the sidewalks, pushing microphones into the faces of stunned residents.
But inside the Carter house, there was only silence.
Maya stood at the kitchen window, clutching her coffee like a lifeline. She hadn’t slept. Couldn’t. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father—sitting in that study, writing in the ledger that had nearly cost her life. That had already cost him.
Eli entered quietly, his phone to his ear. He hung up and looked into her eyes with a grim expression.
“They’ve confirmed two more resignations,” he said. “And Langston’s gone underground. No one’s seen him since yesterday.”
“He’s running,” Maya said. “Or he’s preparing for something worse.”
Eli crossed to the sink, pouring himself a glass of water. “We need to leave town. Just for a few days. Let things settle.”
“We can’t.”
“Maya—”
“I’m not running from this,” she snapped. “Not when we’re this close. Langston’s not the only threat. Someone called me last night.”
Eli turned sharply. “What?”
“Unknown number. Said I should’ve stayed gone. That was it. Just one sentence.”
His jaw clenched. “You think it was Langston?”
“I don’t know. But it wasn’t a warning—it was a promise.”
Eli pulled out a burner phone and handed it to her. “Keep this on you. Always. And don’t go anywhere alone.”
Maya nodded, but her mind was already spinning. “I need to talk to Clara.”
He frowned. “She’s being held for questioning.”
“Not anymore. She’s out. They didn’t have enough to hold her.”
“You think she’s behind the call?”
“I think she’s not finished lying.”
---
Clara met her at the rose garden—an elegant, pristine plot in the town cemetery. Maya didn’t miss the irony.
“You came alone,” Clara said.
“Shouldn’t I have?”
Clara wore her grief like a mask now. It was perfectly placed and almost beautiful in its execution. But Maya saw the cracks: the way her hands trembled when she thought no one was watching, the guilt clinging to her voice like smoke.
“Langston’s missing,” Maya said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where he’s hiding?”
Clara didn’t answer. She plucked a dead leaf from a bush and dropped it into her purse.
“You were his partner. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“I was his puppet,” Clara corrected, voice sharp. “Don’t mistake compliance for choice.”
“You signed every deal. Every hush clause. And when my father refused to play along, you stepped aside and let them bury him.”
Clara finally turned to face her. “What would you have done, Maya? When they threatened your sister’s life? Her child’s future?”
“I would’ve fought.”
“You say that now. But you don’t know what it’s like to be afraid every single day. To lie awake wondering if your decisions have put a bullet in someone’s back.”
Maya’s eyes burned. “My father died because no one had the spine to stand with him.”
Clara stepped closer. “He died because I did stand with him. And when I did, Langston punished me.”
“What do you mean?”
“They took something from me, Maya. Not just my dignity. My daughter.”
Maya froze. “You had a child?”
Clara nodded, tears rising. “Her name was Lila. She was twelve when I started asking questions. I didn’t even know she was sick. Langston did. He withheld treatment. Made sure the hospital wouldn’t respond in time.”
Maya’s breath caught. “Jesus…”
“I tried to fight back. After her funeral, I burned every contract I had. He replaced them with forged ones. Made me sign new ones at gunpoint.”
Maya’s heart twisted. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because I thought if I told you, he’d come after you next.”
Maya’s voice cracked. “He already did.”
They stood silently momentarily, the wind curling around them like a whisper.
Clara finally looked up. “I can help you, Maya. But it won’t save me.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s one final file. A black envelope, hidden in Langston’s summer house. It’s the original agenda—before the Oak Society, before the council votes. It has names… even yours.”
“Mine?”
“Your father signed something when you were just a baby. It ties you to all of this. If Langston finds it, he’ll spin it to frame you. Make you the villain.”
Maya’s stomach churned. “Then we find it first.”
---
The summer house sat on the outskirts of Hollow Creek, hidden in a thicket of pine trees and fog. Maya and Eli parked the truck half a mile down and silently walked the rest of the way.
“What if it’s a trap?” Eli whispered, scanning the tree line.
“Then we don’t walk in blind.”
They approached cautiously. The house looked abandoned—shutters falling off, moss creeping up the steps, vines tangled over the porch. But the front door was ajar.
Maya raised her hand.
They stepped inside together.
The air smelled of mold and paper. Books were strewn across the floor. A chair had been overturned. Someone had been here—recently.
They moved through the hall, careful not to make noise. Then—
A creak.
Maya froze.
Someone was upstairs.
Eli pulled his weapon. “Stay behind me.”
They climbed the stairs slowly, their footsteps silent. A door at the end of the hall was cracked open, and light spilled out.
Eli raised a hand—then pushed the door wide.
The room was empty.
But on the desk was a single black envelope.
Maya rushed forward and opened it.
Inside: documents, photos, tapes.
And a letter addressed to her.
She opened it.
> Maya,
If you’re reading this, it means I failed to stop them. It also means you’re stronger than I ever was. What I signed when you were a baby wasn’t a deal—it was a promise. I agreed to build this town up for you and our family. But I never realized I was giving away our soul. This paper binds you to them only in ink, not in blood. And now you can use it to set us free.
—Dad.
Maya’s hands trembled.
“We have it,” she whispered.
But then a shot rang out.
Glass shattered.
Eli stumbled back, clutching his shoulder.
“Sniper!” he gasped.
Maya dropped to the ground, crawling toward him as another shot cracked the wall beside her.
She grabbed Eli’s collar, dragging him toward the door.
Another bullet whizzed past.
They made it down the stairs, across the porch, and into the trees before another shot was fired.
And then silence.
Just birdsong.
She pressed her hand to his shoulder. “You’re okay. It missed the bone.”
Eli gritted his teeth. “They knew we were coming.”
Maya looked back at the house.
“No,” she whispered. “Someone told them.”
---
By nightfall, they were back at the safe house.
Eli was bandaged, resting, and barely conscious.
Maya sat by the window, clutching the letter from her father. Every word echoed in her head.
The sniper. The broken door. The fact they knew she’d be there.
There was only one person who could’ve known.
Clara.
Maya stood, her heart sinking.
Sometimes, betrayal didn’t come from enemies.
Sometimes it came from blood.
- Writer
