Chapter 2 Parents Death

Elena's fingers tugged at the knots in her golden-red hair, the comb snagging as sunlight streamed through her bedroom window, glinting off the strands. The clock on her nightstand blinked 11:47 a.m.-way past when she should've left for school. Saph's missed calls buzzed in her pocket like angry bees, but she ignored them, her movements slow and deliberate. She yanked on baggy jeans, the denim cool against her skin, and layered a crop top under her faded jacket, the fabric soft from years of wear.

Her backpack thudded onto the bed, and she stuffed her phone into the front pocket, the weight of it grounding her.

Today wasn't like most days. Something tugged at her gut, a restless itch she couldn't shake. She slung the backpack over her shoulder and stepped into the hallway, her sneakers silent on the worn hardwood. Halfway to the stairs, she froze, one foot hovering mid-step. Voices-sharp, jagged-spilled from Adam's study, the door cracked just enough to let the sound bleed out. Her breath caught, curiosity sparking like a live wire under her skin. They think I'm gone by now, she thought, her pulse quickening. They're not careful.

She should've kept moving, bolted down the stairs and out the door like always. But that itch- that need to know-pulled her closer. She crept forward, her fingers brushing the doorframe, the wood cool and splintered against her palm. Holding her breath, she pressed her ear to the gap, the voices sharpening into focus. Josh's growl hit her first, low and furious. "How long do you think you can string her along? You need to make that girl sign over everything before she gets smart."

Her stomach dropped, a cold sweat prickling her neck. Josh-Uncle Josh-was here? He was supposed to be at the office, not snarling in Adam's study like a cornered dog. She leaned in, her fingers trembling as they gripped the frame. Adam's voice snapped back, thick with irritation. "I know, Josh, I know. But that child's stubborn as a damn bull. Every time I bring it up, she digs in her heels."

Elena's throat tightened, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Me. They're talking about me. Her mind raced, piecing together the venom in their tones. Why did Josh care about her signing anything? Adam's sugary act had worn thin months ago, but this-this was something darker. She pressed closer, the door creaking faintly under her weight, and Josh's voice dropped, a guttural edge slicing through the air. "You promised me. You said killing Stephen was the easiest way to access the company. Now the cartel's breathing down our necks. If Elena doesn't sign it over, we can't ship the weapons, and the contract's gone. We're finished, Adam. Doomed."

The world tilted. Elena's knees buckled, and she clutched the frame harder, splinters biting into her skin as a ragged gasp clawed its way up her throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling it, but her chest heaved, air coming in shallow bursts. Killing Stephen. Her father. Not a crash. Not an accident. Murder. The word seared through her, hot and jagged, tearing open a wound she'd barely stitched shut. Adam and Josh-her uncle and the man who'd tossed her piggybacks as a kid-had blood on their hands. Her parents' blood.

Adam's voice cut in, tight with panic. "How was I supposed to know Stephen would leave everything to her? The mining company was one thing, but the shipping company too? He willed it all to her! There's no way to take it unless she hands it over-and she's too thick-headed to do it."

Her vision blurred, tears stinging as the room spun. She stumbled back, her sneakers scuffing the floor, and bolted for the stairs. Her legs moved on instinct, each step a jolt through her trembling frame. She hit the bottom hard, nearly tripping, and sprinted for the front door, her backpack slamming against her spine. The screen door banged shut behind her as she leaped down the porch steps, the autumn air biting her cheeks. Her lungs burned, but she didn't stop-couldn't stop. They killed them. They killed them. The thought looped, a scream trapped in her chest, as she tore down the street.

Grief crashed over her, fresh and raw, but fear shoved it aside. They'll know I heard. They'll come for me. Her sneakers pounded the pavement, the rhythm drowning out the chaos in her head. She didn't see the car until its horn blared, a sharp wail that snapped her back to reality. She skidded to a stop, gravel crunching underfoot, as tires screeched and the sleek black sedan swerved, missing her by inches. Her heart slammed against her ribs, adrenaline surging as she threw her hands up, voice cracking. "Hey, nutcase! Watch where you're going!"

The car jolted to a halt, dust swirling in the air, and the back door swung open. A man stepped out, tall and imposing, his Gucci suit pristine except for a crooked tie that dangled like an afterthought. His dark hair gleamed under the noon sun, and his sea-blue eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unreadable. He tilted his head, a smirk curling his lips as he drawled, "Who are you?" The words carried a faint accent-Eastern European, maybe-smooth and low, like he was testing her.

Elena's fists clenched, heat flooding her face as her fear flipped to fury. "Elena Williams," she snapped, planting her feet despite the shake in her legs. "And your driver nearly broke my damn legs. I want an apology." Her voice held steady, defiance masking the panic still clawing at her chest.

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that grated on her nerves, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You want an apology from me?" He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her, and she caught a whiff of expensive cologne-cedar and smoke. "Who the hell do you think you are to demand anything? You ran into the street like a wild animal."

Her jaw tightened. He wasn't wrong-she hadn't looked-but she'd be damned if she admitted it. "I was in the right," she shot back, crossing her arms. "You should've seen me."

His smirk faded, annoyance flickering in his gaze. "You should apologize for nearly scratching my car with your recklessness."

"Your car?" She scoffed, her voice rising. "I was running for my life, not worrying about your overpriced toy!"

He raised an eyebrow, his head tilting as if she'd piqued his interest. "Running for your life?" he echoed, mockery lacing his tone. "From what, exactly?"

Her fists balled tighter, nails digging into her palms. She couldn't tell him-couldn't tell anyone. The truth was a live grenade, and she wasn't ready to pull the pin. "None of your business," she said, her voice ice-cold. "Forget it." She flipped him the finger, the gesture sharp and final, and spun on her heel, darting down the street before he could respond. His laugh chased her, low and mocking, but she didn't look back.

Her legs burned as she rounded a corner, her breath fogging in the crisp air. She slowed, chest heaving, and yanked her phone from her pocket with shaking hands. Saph's name glowed on the screen, and she hit call, the ring cutting through her spiraling thoughts. It barely rang once before Saph's voice burst through, sharp with worry. "Where the hell are you? I've been calling forever!"

"I'm at the gate," Elena panted, dodging a cluster of students as she neared the school's cafeteria. "Meet me at the café? I can't do classes today."

Saph's tone softened, concern bleeding through. "You okay? You sound wrecked."

"I don't know," Elena admitted, her voice cracking as she pushed through the crowd. "Everything's a mess, Saph. I'm freaking out."

"Stay there," Saph said, firm and steady. "I'll be there in five. Don't move."

"Love you," Elena muttered, her grip tightening on the phone.

"Love you too, Lena. Hang on."

She stumbled to a stop near the café, her sneakers scuffing the pavement as she leaned against a lamppost. Her breath steadied, but her mind raced-Adam's panic, Josh's growl, the cartel. Her father's company wasn't just a legacy; it was a weapon, and they'd killed for it. She couldn't go back to that house-not now, not ever. But where could she go? She needed a plan, proof, something to fight with. Dad's office, she thought, her jaw tightening. If there's anything left, it's there.

Saph's blonde hair flashed in the distance, bouncing as she hurried over, and Elena's shoulders sagged with relief. If anyone could anchor her through this storm, it was Saph.