Chapter 17
The old bakery looked abandoned.
Dust on the windows.
Boards over the door.
Faded gold letters spelling AMARA’S on the glass.
Agent Chen broke the lock with a warrant in hand.
I stepped inside and nearly fell apart.
The smell was gone.
No sugar.
No coffee.
No warm bread.
Only dust and wood.
But I could still see her there.
Amara behind the counter.
Emmett on a stool.
Me pretending not to steal broken cookies.
Emmett walked beside me.
Margot had argued against bringing him.
He insisted.
Agent Chen allowed it only with guards outside and Nora beside him.
“I know where,” Emmett said.
We all looked at him.
He pointed to the back wall.
“Mom put my handprint there.”
Behind an old flour cabinet was a patch of painted wall.
A tiny handprint.
Blue.
Emmett’s.
Below it, Amara had written: My best helper.
I knelt beside it.
There was a loose tile near the floor.
Behind it was a safe.
Emmett’s birthday opened it.
Inside were the final files.
Names.
Transfers.
Medical proof.
Recordings.
Judges.
Doctors.
Politicians.
My father’s location.
A private island property listed under a dead company.
Agent Chen looked at me.
“This ends now.”
But my phone buzzed before she could move.
A video call.
My father’s face filled the screen.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
Behind him stood Lucille.
Bound to a chair.
For the first time, my mother looked truly terrified.
May you like
Antonio smiled.
“Bring me the boy, Rafael, or I bury your mother beside your wife.”
