Chapter 2 - LOCKER 317
Vincent pushed Renley flat against the stone as metal screamed across the driveway.
The black vehicles did not enter.
They stopped outside.
That somehow made everything worse.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then the headlights switched off.
Darkness swallowed the road.
“Positions!” one of Vincent's men shouted.
Men appeared from side doors of the mansion.
Renley counted six.
Then nine.
Then more.
She had never seen so many guns in her life.
Vincent crouched beside her.
“Listen carefully. You're going inside.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“No?”
“You locked the gate.”
“Yes.”
“Then people smashed it.”
“Yes.”
“And now you want me to go into your house?”
Vincent stared at her for half a second.
Under different circumstances, he might have laughed.
Instead, he pointed toward the road.
“You prefer them?”
Renley looked.
A silhouette stood beyond the broken gate.
Then another.
Vincent lowered his voice.
“They knew you were coming.”
That sentence changed everything.
Renley followed him.
They rushed through the mansion while guards sealed the doors behind them.
Inside, the house looked nothing like Renley expected.
No gold statues.
No giant paintings of criminals.
Just dark wood, old photographs, bookshelves, and silence.
Vincent led her into a study.
He locked the door.
“Tell me everything Walter said about 317.”
Renley shook her head.
“He didn't explain.”
“Anything matters.”
She tried to remember.
Walter sitting beside the window.
The soup.
The bread.
His shaking hands.
His habit of checking the hallway before speaking.
Then she remembered the Thursday before he died.
“He asked me whether I trusted my mother.”
Vincent stopped breathing.
Renley noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. You made a face.”
Vincent turned away.
“What exactly did Walter ask?”
“He said, ‘If someone told you your whole life started with a lie, would you still want the truth?’”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“What did you say?”
“I said adults lie all the time.”
Despite everything, Vincent gave a short laugh.
“What else?”
“He said sometimes people disappear because staying is more dangerous.”
Vincent looked at her again.
“And then?”
Renley closed her eyes.
Walter's apartment.
The radiator clicking.
Rain against the windows.
His voice.
“He said... ‘If anything ever happens to me, don't believe the first person who cries.’”
Vincent's face changed.
A loud crack sounded downstairs.
Gunfire.
Renley flinched.
Vincent grabbed a desk phone.
No signal.
He checked his cell.
Nothing.
“They're jamming communications.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we're not calling anyone.”
More gunfire.
Then footsteps outside the study.
Vincent aimed at the door.
“Who?”
“Marcus.”
Vincent unlocked it.
A tall guard entered, blood running from a cut above his eyebrow.
“They're gone.”
Vincent lowered the gun.
“Gone?”
“They never came inside. They hit the gate, fired into the cameras, then disappeared.”
“Why?”
Marcus looked at Renley.
“To make us lock ourselves in.”
Vincent understood immediately.
He turned toward the brass key.
It was gone.
The table was empty.
Vincent crossed the room.
“Where is it?”
Renley stared.
“You had it.”
Marcus reached for his weapon.
Vincent raised a hand.
Nobody moved.
They searched the floor.
The bag.
The desk.
Nothing.
Then Renley felt something inside her coat pocket.
Her face went pale.
Vincent noticed.
“What?”
Slowly, Renley reached into her pocket.
The brass key was there.
317.
“I didn't put this here.”
Marcus cursed.
Vincent took one step back.
Someone had been close enough to touch her.
Inside the mansion.
During the blackout.
Vincent immediately looked toward Marcus.
Marcus looked offended.
“You think it was me?”
“I think nothing.”
“That's worse.”
A knock came from the study door.
Three slow taps.
Nobody spoke.
Then three more.
Vincent raised his gun.
“Who is it?”
A woman's voice answered.
“Vincent, open the door.”
His weapon lowered.
Renley saw the fear return to his eyes.
Not anger.
Fear.
“Who is she?” Renley whispered.
Vincent didn't answer.
The woman outside spoke again.
“You have Walter's girl with you.”
Renley's skin prickled.
Vincent slowly opened the door.
A silver-haired woman stood there wearing a long black coat.
She looked at Renley once.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
“Oh my God.”
Renley stepped backward.
The woman covered her mouth.
“You have her eyes.”
Vincent whispered:
“Eleanor, don't.”
But the woman was already walking toward Renley.
She stopped inches away.
May you like
Then she said the words that would change Renley's life.
“Your mother told us you died twelve years ago.”
