I stopped trying to escape that night.
Not because I gave up…
But because something inside me had shifted.
Rico Zander's words kept replaying in my head.
You were never locked in.
Then what was I doing here?
And more importantly…
What was he hiding?
⸻
The house no longer felt like just a prison.
It felt like a puzzle.
And I needed answers.
⸻
The next afternoon, I waited until the staff became busy in the kitchen.
Rico was out again.
That was becoming a pattern.
Too convenient.
Too planned.
⸻
"This house has too many secrets," I whispered to myself.
And I intended to find one.
⸻
I started from the hallway downstairs.
Checking walls.
Doors.
Drawers.
Anything that felt even slightly unusual.
Most of it was normal.
Too normal.
Until I noticed something odd.
A bookshelf that didn't sit properly against the wall.
It was slightly shifted.
Like it had been moved before.
⸻
My heartbeat quickened.
"No way…" I muttered.
I pressed against it gently.
Nothing.
Then harder.
A soft click echoed.
My breath stopped.
⸻
The shelf moved.
Behind it was a narrow hidden door.
My hands trembled slightly.
"This is insane…"
But I didn't stop.
I pulled it open slowly.
And stepped inside.
⸻
It was dark.
Cold.
A narrow storage-like room filled with old boxes, documents, and dust.
My fingers brushed against the wall until I found a switch.
Light flickered on.
And that's when I saw it.
⸻
Files.
Dozens of them.
Stacks labeled with names I didn't recognize.
Until one name stopped me cold.
COLLINS
My father's surname.
My breath hitched.
"No… no way…"
⸻
I grabbed the file immediately, opening it with shaking hands.
Inside were documents.
Old records.
Photos.
Transactions.
And notes.
All connected to underground operations.
My father's name appeared again and again.
Not as a victim.
Not as someone innocent.
But as someone deeply involved.
⸻
My legs weakened slightly as I flipped through pages.
"He was really… part of this?" I whispered.
But it didn't stop there.
There were newer documents too.
More recent.
⸻
One page caught my attention.
A location record.
A transfer note.
And beneath it…
A handwritten line.
Subject last seen operating under protection in Eastern territory.
My heart slammed against my chest.
Protection?
From who?
⸻
Then I saw another note.
Stamped.
Recent.
Rico Zander's signature.
My fingers froze.
"No…"
⸻
It meant one thing.
Rico didn't just know my father.
He had been tracking him.
Or protecting him.
Or both.
⸻
My head spun as I backed away slightly.
"This doesn't make sense…"
Why would a man who said my father betrayed him…
Also keep records of his location?
Why keep him alive?
Why not finish it?
⸻
Then I saw the final document.
A sealed file.
Marked:
"DO NOT OPEN WITHOUT DIRECT AUTHORITY — ZANDER FILE"
My heart pounded harder.
Against every instinct…
I reached for it.
⸻
But just before I could open it—
Footsteps echoed outside the room.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Approaching.
I froze instantly.
The file still in my hand.
The truth just inches away.
And someone was coming.