Chapter 6 - The Chase

The two men scanned the waiting room with cold, highly trained eyes.

I recognized the distinct gang tattoos on their necks immediately.

Silas had sent his violent enforcers to ensure we didn't try to escape the hospital.

I lowered my head and picked up a discarded magazine, hiding my face behind the glossy pages.

One of the men approached the front desk, intimidating the terrified receptionist in a low, threatening whisper.

I knew I could not stay in this hospital if I wanted to save my grandfather's estate.

I stood up slowly, keeping my back entirely turned toward the ruthless enforcers.

I walked casually toward the hallway marked for public restrooms and the cafeteria.

Once I was completely out of their line of sight, I broke into a desperate, frantic sprint.

I pushed through the heavy emergency exit doors and stumbled out into the cool, dark night.

The downtown branch of the First National Bank was exactly six blocks away from the hospital.

I ran through the deserted city streets, constantly checking over my shoulder for any signs of pursuit.

My lungs burned fiercely, and my legs felt like heavy lead, but I absolutely refused to stop moving.

I finally reached the massive stone pillars of the bank just as the sun began to rise over the city.

I waited nervously for an hour until the heavy brass doors were finally unlocked by a security guard.

I walked straight to the vault manager's desk, presenting the silver key and my grandfather's account number.

The manager verified the key and led me down a quiet, marble staircase into the highly secure underground vault.

He unlocked a large metal drawer in the wall, handed me a heavy steel box, and left me completely alone in the private viewing room.

I sat down at the table, my hands shaking violently as I opened the lid of the box.

I expected to find stacks of cash or valuable bearer bonds to pay off Silas.

Instead, the box was entirely empty, except for a single, black USB flash drive and a loaded handgun.

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Beneath the weapon was a handwritten note on my grandfather's personalized stationery.

"Amelia, if you are reading this, your mother was never on our side," the chilling note read.