Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of Room 402
"You know my name?" I gasped, kneeling beside him as I checked the makeshift bandage I had improvised earlier using dish towels and packing tape.
"Your apron... it has your name tag," he coughed, wincing as a fresh wave of crimson soaked through the cloth. "Anna... Bennett. Foster system. Aged out at eighteen. Worked here for fourteen months."
I froze, pulling my hands back as though I’d touched a live wire. "How do you know that? Are you working for them? Is this a setup?"
"If I was working for them, I wouldn't have taken a bullet through the lung to keep these babies out of their reach," Daniel said, his breathing growing dangerously shallow. He grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly firm despite his blood loss. "Listen to me very carefully. The man you just knocked out is Marcus Sterling. Head of security for the Sterling-Vane conglomerate—the empire my father built, and the one Marcus is trying to steal by eliminating my heirs."
The name hit me like a physical blow. Sterling. The same family name as David Sterling, the restaurant tyrant from across town who had terrorized workers for years. But this wasn't just a local business owner; this was the apex predator of Boston corporate crime and finance.
"We can't stay here," I said, panic rising in my throat. "Marcus has men outside. When he doesn't check in, they'll tear this diner apart."
"My car," Daniel whispered, reaching into his blood-soaked jacket and pulling out a heavy platinum key fob bearing a prancing horse emblem. "Parked two blocks away in the underground garage at 402 Beacon Street. Unit 402. My emergency apartment. Use the freight elevator in the alley. They won't look there."
"I can't carry you and two babies two blocks in the rain!" I protested, looking down at the twins, who had finally quieted down, staring up at me with wide, innocent eyes.
"You have to," Daniel said, his eyes locking onto mine with a fierce, absolute command that brooked no argument. "Because if Marcus gets these children, Boston won't just burn—it will belong to monsters. Take them, Anna. And trust no one."
May you like
With those final words, Daniel’s head slumped sideways, and unconsciousness reclaimed him.
Ten minutes later, wrapped in industrial trash bags to keep off the pouring rain, with the baby carrier strapped securely across my chest and Daniel’s massive, dead weight slung over my shoulder like a sack of grain, I stepped out into the dark Boston alleyway, plunging headfirst into a war I never asked to fight.
