Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
By 3:45 a.m., Emma finally arrived at her modest two-bedroom row house on West Oak Street. The neighborhood was quiet, lined with old brick buildings, flickering streetlights, and parked sedans buried under autumn leaves.
She pushed open her front door, kicked off her worn nursing clogs, and collapsed onto her worn sofa.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Baltimore Senior Care: "Ms. Shaw, this is a final notice regarding account #8814. Balance due: $4,200. Failure to clear balance by Friday will result in immediate discharge of resident Sarah Shaw."
Emma pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her hands. She wanted to cry, but she was too exhausted to produce tears. Four thousand two hundred dollars. She had three hundred in her checking account.
She thought about the thick stack of bills Julian had tossed onto her tray. She could have taken it. No one would have known. Patel didn't care. Julian certainly didn't care.
"No," she whispered into the dark room. "You don't cross that line."
She forced herself up, took a hot shower to wash the copper smell from her hair, and changed into an oversized grey sweater and sweatpants. She made a mug of black tea and sat by her front window, waiting for her mind to quiet down enough to allow sleep.
At 4:30 a.m., the first car pulled up.
It was a sleek, jet-black Mercedes sedan with pitch-black tinted windows. It parked quietly at the curb directly across from her house, its engine idling silently.
Emma frowned, leaning closer to the glass.
Five minutes later, a second black SUV turned the corner, parking at the fire hydrant down the block.
Then a third. A fourth. A fifth.
Emma stood up, her heart beginning to beat violently against her ribs.
She pulled back her blinds.
Down the entire length of West Oak Street, black vehicles were slowly filling every available parking space, pulling up on both sides of the road. Engines cut out in unison. Headlights flickered off, plunging the street into a dark, suffocating silhouette.
Big, broad-shouldered men in tailored dark suits stepped out of the vehicles, taking up positions at the corners, on the sidewalks, and near the alleyways.
They weren't hiding. They were setting up a perimeter.
Emma ran to her back door and looked out through the kitchen window. The alleyway behind her house was completely blocked by three heavy black Escalades. Four armed men stood near her back fence, their hands folded neatly in front of their waists.
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Her heart hit her throat with terrifying force.
They hadn't just followed her home. They had completely surrounded her house.
