Chapter 14 — The Mill
Clara ran for the elevator.
Juliano caught up with her in the stairwell.
“You’re not going alone.”
“My mother is two floors down.”
“Security is moving her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I ordered it.”
“You order a lot of things.”
The words hit harder because they were true.
They reached Clara’s mother’s room.
Empty.
The bed had been stripped.
The heart monitor disconnected.
A nurse stood in the corner, crying.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “A doctor transferred her.”
“What doctor?” Clara demanded.
“He had credentials.”
“What name?”
The nurse looked at the clipboard.
“Dr. Vale.”
Clara gripped the bedrail.
Adrian was still under police guard in another wing.
Someone else had used his name.
Juliano called the detective.
No answer.
Clara looked at him.
“The mill.”
“You don’t know she’s there.”
“Yes, I do.”
They drove through heavy rain.
Neither spoke.
At one red light, Clara said, “You shouldn’t have come.”
Juliano kept his eyes on the road.
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
He took too long to answer.
The light changed.
Behind them, a black SUV turned onto the same road.
Juliano noticed it.
Clara did too.
They did not mention it.
The old textile mill stood near the river, windows shattered, brick walls covered in dark moss.
The front gate was open.
Too easy.
Inside, water dripped through the roof.
Their footsteps echoed across the empty production floor.
Clara led him toward the basement stairs.
“How do you know the way?”
“My brother drew it once.”
“You kept the drawing?”
“In my head.”
At the bottom, they found a steel vault door.
Clara inserted Elena’s brass key.
It turned.
Inside were shelves packed with paper files.
Thousands of them.
Each marked with a patient number.
Some had photographs attached.
Women.
Children.
Newborn babies.
Juliano opened the nearest folder.
A birth certificate.
A payment record.
An adoption agreement.
All forged.
Clara found her brother’s name on a ledger.
Beside it, one handwritten note:
Witness removed. Family compensated.
Clara stopped moving.
Juliano read it over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
She did not cry.
She closed the book carefully.
That was worse.
A slow clap sounded behind them.
Isabella Vale stood in the vault entrance.
Older now.
Silver streaks in her dark hair.
Still elegant.
Still composed.
Clara’s mother sat in a wheelchair beside her, unconscious.
Two armed men stood behind them.
Isabella smiled at Juliano.
“You finally found the family business.”
Juliano stepped in front of Clara.
Isabella sighed.
“Your father did the same thing. Always standing in front of women after he had already failed them.”
“Let her mother go.”
“Give me the ledger.”
Clara gripped it against her chest.
“No.”
Isabella looked at her almost kindly.
“Your brother said that too.”
Clara’s face changed.
Not fear.
Something colder.
Juliano saw her hand move toward a rusted emergency switch on the wall.
He shook his head slightly.
She ignored him.
A real mistake.
A deliberate one.
Clara pulled the switch.
The old mill siren roared.
The armed men flinched.
Juliano lunged.
A gun fired.
May you like
The lights exploded.
And in the darkness, someone screamed Clara’s name.
