Maya's POV
The door flew open, and I jumped behind the couch. Splinters of wood flew everywhere. Dust and the sound of heavy boots on our creaking floor filled the apartment.
A deep voice said, "She's not here."
"Inspect the bedroom."
My ribs were pounded by my heart. I tried to blend in by pressing myself against the back of the couch. The smell of the carpet was a combination of fear and old coffee.
Another voice said, "Kitchen's empty too."
I needed to leave. Right now.
I stayed low and crawled toward the window. The rough carpet scraped against my knees. Every noise seemed excessively loud. Each breath seemed excessively large.
"Wait," said the first voice. "The laptop is still warm. She had just arrived."
Ten feet separated us from the fire escape. If I was quick enough, I could make it. I inhaled deeply before running for the window. As I climbed out, my shoulder struck the frame with force. Even though my arm hurt, I continued to move.
My weight caused the metal fire escape to creak. With my sneakers slipping on the damp metal, I descended as quickly as I could.
Someone yelled, "There!" from above. "She's on the fire escape!"
I leaped the final few feet and ran into the alley. Every step I took made my backpack bounce against my spine. I heard the men behind me making their way down the fire escape.
I dashed through the back alleys of Chicago. Left, right, left once more. My lungs were burning. My legs were rubbery. However, I was unable to stop.
I ran for twenty minutes before deciding to slow down. I was in an unfamiliar area of town. Here, the buildings appeared older. Dirtier.
I took out my phone and dialed 911.
"911, tell me about your emergency."
Still gasping for air, I said, "Someone broke into my apartment." "I believe there are men with guns. They are pursuing me."
"Are you hurt?"
"No, but they're still trying to find me."
"Is there a safe place for you to go?"
I took a look around. Where was it safe? These folks were aware of my residence, place of employment, and educational institution.
"I don't know," I muttered.
"A patrol car is being dispatched to your location. Hold on to the line."
Twenty minutes later, I was found by two police officers. Officer Martinez had a gentle gaze and was young. Officer Brooks appeared worn out and older.
"Tell us what happened," said Officer Martinez.
I told them about my dad's disappearance, the pictures, and the texts. Everything, with the exception of the two million dollar part. I wasn't yet prepared to accept that.
"Did any of the men who broke in look familiar to you?" Officer Brooks inquired.
"No. I hid behind the sofa."
"And how long has it been since you last saw your father?"
"Since this morning. However, he left a message."
Everything was documented by Officer Martinez.
"We'll file a report, but we won't see the men who broke in or the actual break-in..."
"What about the pictures?"
I showed them the email containing my father's battered photos.
Officer Brooks turned to face his partner. "It might be phony. These days, people can use computers to make anything appear real."
"But what if it's not fake?" I inquired. "What if my dad is truly injured?"
Officer Martinez said softly, "We'll file a missing person report." "However, adults are free to vanish if they so choose."
"He had no desire to vanish. Someone took him."
"Is there a safe place for me to stay tonight?" Officer Brooks inquired.
I considered it. Would these folks search for me in the dorms where my friend Jessica lived? The diner's Tony had offered to help, but I couldn't risk hurting him.
"I'll figure something out," I replied.
I sat on a bench in a little park after the police had left. I had seventeen work-related missed calls on my phone. Jessica left me three voicemails inquiring about my whereabouts. Additionally, the blocked number sent two more texts.
It won't help to run. We shall locate you. There are forty-four hours remaining.
I gave Jessica a call.
"Maya! You're where? I've been extremely anxious."
I lied and said, "I'm okay." "Just taking care of some family matters."
"What sort of family matters? You sound awful."
I wanted to share everything with her. About the men who broke into my apartment, the pictures, and the texts. However, how could I explain that my father might be a thief? That I was being pursued by dangerous people?
Instead, I said, "My dad's sick." "I may miss a few days of class."
"Is there anything you need? I could bring you some food, or—"
"No, I'm all right. Later, I'll give you a call."
Before she could ask any more questions, I ended the call.
It was growing dark in the park. Before something bad happened to my dad, I had to find him. Where would he go, though? How would he respond?
I considered all the places Dad enjoyed going to. Murphy's Bar. The racetrack where he placed his horse wagers. Fifth Street pool hall.
I traveled to Murphy's Bar by bus. Murphy, the owner, was a large, dejected man with gray hair.
Murphy remarked, "I haven't seen your dad in three days." "On Tuesday night, he was supposed to meet someone here, but he never showed up."
"Who was he supposed to meet?"
Murphy's face turned white. "I'm not sure. A man wearing a costly suit. Extremely courteous, but I felt uneasy about him."
"Did he give you a name?"
"Said to call him Mr. Romano."
My blood froze. Romano. Similar to the signature on an email.
"Did Mr. Romano express his desires to my father?"
"Just that they needed to talk about business. Your dad looked afraid, Maya. Very frightened."
I had more questions than answers when I left Murphy's Bar. Why didn't Dad show up if he had a meeting with this Romano person? Instead, where did he go?
Next, I tried the horse track. Two days ago, the security guard recalled seeing Dad.
The guard claimed, "He was arguing with someone on his phone." "Seemed really upset about something."
"Did you hear what he said?"
"It has to do with having more time. That the money would be returned to him."
Cash. Dad is always talking about money.
I looked at the library where he used to take me as a child, the pool hall, and the diner where he occasionally had breakfast. No one had noticed him.
I saw a black car following me as I made my way back to the bus stop. It remained two blocks behind, never approaching or regressing too much.
I made a left turn. The vehicle made a left turn. I made a right turn. The vehicle made a right turn.
I crouched inside a supermarket and observed from the window. The vehicle waited while parked across the street.
They had located me. I had to get rid of them, but how? I was only a college student. I had no idea how to flee from dangerous individuals.
Using the last of my money, I purchased sunglasses and a baseball cap. Perhaps the disguise would buy me some time, but it wouldn't fool them for long.
I ran through more alleys after sneaking out the back exit. I knew they were still searching even though the black car had vanished.
My phone rang. Unknown figure.
The same serene voice from earlier said, "Maya." "You've had a busy day."
"Where is my father?"
"Be careful. For the time being. However, we are running out of patience."
"I'm not with you money."
"We are aware. We're giving you a trade because of this."
"What kind of trade?"
"You're for him. I'm going to text you, so come to the address. Come by yourself. You've got an hour."
"And if I don't?"
"Then your dad passes away. And we'll still come get you."
The line died. I got a text with an unfamiliar address. The warehouse district was where it was. It was the type of place where people went to vanish.
I gazed at the message. I have an hour to choose between my father's and my lives.
However, I became aware that I wasn't alone as I began to move toward the address. It was the black car again. It wasn't following me this time, either. I was being herded.
I was surrounded by two more cars that came from side streets. I had nowhere to flee and was stuck in the middle of an empty intersection.
The vehicles came to a halt. The doors opened. Four men came out. All of them were tall, dressed in dark suits, and approaching me with the assurance of predators who have cornered their prey.
The eldest one grinned, but it wasn't a pleasant one.
"Hello, Maya," he said. "We have been trying to find you."
I took a step back, but there was no escape.
Another said, "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be." "All we want to do is talk."
"About what?"
"Regarding your father's debt. As well as how you plan to pay it."
The youngest-looking man, the fourth, came forward. "Maya Chen. 22 years old. Student preparing for medicine. Is employed at Tony's Diner. Resides in apartment 3B at 1247 Oak Street."
He was fully aware of me.
"We know where you go to school," he added. "Your friends are known to us. Your dreams are known to us. We are aware of your desire to become a doctor."
"What do you want from me?"
"Simple," said the eldest. "We were robbed by your father. You will since he is unable to pay."
"I don't have two million dollars."
"We are no longer discussing money."
The youngest one showed me a video on a tablet. It was Dad, bloody and bruised, tied to a chair.
"Forty-three hours," Dad told the camera. He spoke in a scared, feeble voice. "I'm sorry, Maya, sweetheart. I'm very sorry. Don't try to find me. Run. Get as far away as you can."
The video came to an end.
"Choose," said the oldest man. "Your father lives if you join us now. We'll kill him if he runs. In any case, you are ours."
I turned to face the four men encircling me. They were more than criminals. They were something far worse. And I was going to learn just what that meant.
I muttered, "I'll accompany you."
"Good choice," said the eldest. "My name is Dante Romano. My brothers are these. Greetings from the family."
I knew the hunt was over as they escorted me to the car. And it was me who had been apprehended.