Chapter 5 - The Words of the WitnessIn the mountains, the cold was biting, but the air was clean. We huddled around a wood stove, the world outside hidden by a thick blanket of pine trees and falling snow.
Leah was awake, staring into the fire. She looked at me, then at Damian.
"The names," she whispered. Her voice was thin, but it held the weight of a hammer. "They were written on the wall. In the room with the white lights."
Damian froze. "Leah, honey, you don't have to—"
"They’re bad men," she continued, her eyes glassy. "They talked about my Mama. They said she was a mistake. They said you had to pay, Papa."
I realized then what Vane had done. He hadn't just stolen my baby; he had used her as a vessel for information. He had forced her to watch and memorize data—names, account numbers, dates—so he would always have a living, breathing hard drive that could be retrieved later.
"Leah," I said, my voice gentle. "Can you tell me where the list is?"
She pointed to the velvet rabbit she had been carrying for two years. "Inside."
Damian tore the rabbit open. Tucked into the stuffing was a tiny, micro-film strip—a piece of data that could destroy half the city’s political and criminal elite.
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"This is it," Damian said, holding the strip up to the light. "This is the end of their power."
But as he said it, the silence outside was broken by the sound of tires on gravel. They had found us.
