Chapter 11 - THREE PEOPLE, ONE BULLET LEFT
The second shot shattered the kitchen light.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Noah crawled toward the hallway.
Eli grabbed my ankle and pulled me away from the window.
“Back door.”
Noah snapped, “No. They’ll have it covered.”
Eli snapped back, “Then suggest something useful.”
“Basement.”
We ran downstairs while bullets punched through the siding.
At the bottom, Noah shoved an old workbench aside.
A steel hatch was set into the wall.
I stared at him.
“You built a bunker in Mom’s basement?”
“Dad did.”
“Of course he did.”
Noah opened it.
We crawled into a narrow service tunnel.
Behind us, the house shook from a blast.
The tunnel ended in the garage of an empty house two doors down.
A sedan waited under a tarp.
Eli looked at Noah.
“You’ve been using this place for years.”
Noah climbed behind the wheel.
“Get in or walk.”
We drove with no headlights until we reached the highway.
Nobody spoke.
I sat in the back between two men who had lied to me for most of my adult life.
Finally I said, “Room Nine.”
Noah’s hands tightened on the wheel.
Eli looked at him.
“You know.”
Noah said, “Yes.”
“Is Mom alive?”
Silence.
My heart started pounding.
“Noah.”
He looked at me in the mirror.
“Yes.”
Everything inside me went quiet.
Not relief.
Not joy.
Just a huge empty space where reality used to be.
“Where?”
“A private recovery facility outside Fairmont.”
“You told me she died.”
“I was told she died.”
“When did you find out?”
“Three years ago.”
I stared at the back of his head.
“Three years.”
“Maya—”
“Pull over.”
“We can’t.”
“Pull over!”
He did.
I got out and threw up on the shoulder.
Neither man came near me.
Smart.
When I stood, Noah was by the car.
“I tried to get her out.”
“You tried?”
“They moved her every time I got close.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“You would’ve gone after her.”
“Yes!”
“And they would’ve used you.”
I shoved him.
“You both keep making choices for me and calling it love.”
Noah flinched.
Good.
Eli stayed by the car.
I pointed at him.
“And you. Did you know?”
“No.”
Noah laughed bitterly.
“He knew more than that.”
Eli’s eyes hardened.
“Don’t.”
“What?” I asked.
Noah reached into his coat and pulled out an old photograph.
He handed it to me.
It showed my mother outside a building at night.
Beside her stood Eli.
The date stamped on the corner was the night she supposedly died.
I looked at him.
“You were there.”
Eli’s face went white.
Noah said, “Ask him who put Mom in Room Nine.”
I held up the picture.
Eli didn’t answer.
Then headlights appeared behind us.
Three black SUVs.
Noah checked his gun.
“One bullet.”
Eli checked his.
“Empty.”
I looked at the approaching vehicles.
Noah handed me the last bullet.
“Then you decide who deserves it.”
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