Chapter 5 - The Conspiracy
I slammed the phone down, my hands shaking with absolute horror.
The corruption ran deeper than just a greedy sheriff and my monstrous son.
I frantically pushed a heavy iron stove against the cabin door to barricade us inside.
Chloe coughed violently, her small chest heaving as she struggled for air.
I knelt beside her, wiping the sweat from her pale forehead with my sleeve.
"Grandma, they took my blood," she whimpered weakly.
I stared at her in shock, asking her what she meant by those words.
"Daddy took me to a cold room, and a doctor put tubes in my arms to take my special blood," she explained.
It all suddenly made sickening sense.
Chloe had a profoundly rare blood type, a genetic anomaly doctors had marveled at when she was born.
Julian and Victoria had not wanted to kill her; they had faked her death to harvest her indefinitely for the black market.
The casket was just a prop for the public, a way to erase her existence from the legal system.
Suddenly, a heavy thud echoed from the roof of the cabin.
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The unmistakable smell of gasoline began to seep through the wooden floorboards.
Flames violently erupted outside the windows, trapping us inside a burning cage.
