Maya's POV
"Through the back!" Agent Chen shouted, firing her gun at the ceiling.
The glass rained down like sharp snow as we ran. Sebastian's hand gripped mine so tight it hurt, but I didn't let go. We crashed through the kitchen door, and the heat from the ovens hit my face. A cook screamed and dropped a pan of pasta.
"Sorry!" I yelled as we kept running.
Behind us, I heard more gunshots. Men shouting. Agent Chen was still fighting, buying us time. My sneakers squeaked on the greasy floor as Sebastian yanked me toward the back exit.
We burst out into an alley. It was dark and smelled like garbage, but I'd never been so happy to see the night sky.
"This way," Sebastian said, pulling me left.
"Where are we going?"
"Anywhere but here!"
We ran until my lungs burned and my legs screamed for me to stop. Sebastian finally pulled me into another alley, behind a dumpster. We both collapsed against the brick wall, gasping for air.
"What... what just happened?" I wheezed.
Sebastian was breathing even harder than me. "I don't know. None of this makes sense."
"Your sister," I said between breaths. "Why would she send them after me? I've never even met her!"
He shook his head. "I don't understand it either. Cara wouldn't do this. Not the sister I know."
"Well, maybe you don't know her as well as you think!"
The words came out harsher than I meant them to, but I was too scared and angry to care. My whole life had been turned upside down in one night. Because of him. Because of his lies.
Sebastian looked at me, and in the dim light from a nearby streetlamp, I could see how tired he looked. How scared.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I don't know anything anymore."
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped, my heart racing all over again.
"Don't answer it," Sebastian warned.
But I already saw the screen. It was a text from an unknown number.
*"Maya, I need your help. Meet me at the Riverside Art Gallery in one hour. Come alone. Trust no one, not even Sebastian. —Cara"*
I showed Sebastian the message. His face went pale.
"It's a trap," he said immediately.
"Maybe. Or maybe your sister really does need help."
"Maya, did you not see what just happened? People tried to kill us! This is exactly what they want—to separate us so they can grab you."
"But what if she's telling the truth?" I asked. "What if she knows why they think I have something? This might be our only chance to figure this out."
Sebastian ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "We need to find Agent Chen. She'll know what to do."
"Agent Chen is probably still fighting those guys. We can't wait." I stood up, my decision made. "I'm going to the gallery."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"She said to come alone."
"I don't care what she said. I'm not letting you walk into danger by yourself." His voice was firm. "You can hate me all you want, Maya. You have every right to. But I'm not leaving you."
Part of me wanted to argue. Part of me wanted to push him away and never see him again. But another part—a part I didn't want to admit existed—was glad he was staying.
"Fine," I said. "But if this gets us killed, I'm blaming you."
We made our way through the back streets, avoiding the main roads. Every car that passed made me flinch. Every shadow looked like it might be hiding someone with a gun.
The Riverside Art Gallery was on the edge of town, near the old bridge. It was a small building that used to be a warehouse. My art teacher had taken our class there last year for a field trip.
When we got there, all the lights were off except for a single lamp glowing in one of the windows.
"This feels wrong," Sebastian whispered.
"Everything about tonight feels wrong," I whispered back.
The front door was unlocked. It creaked when Sebastian pushed it open, and the sound echoed through the empty gallery. Inside, paintings hung on the walls like silent watchers. Landscapes and portraits and abstract shapes that probably meant something to someone.
"Cara?" Sebastian called out. "Are you here?"
No answer.
We walked deeper into the gallery, our footsteps loud on the wooden floor. I stayed close to Sebastian, my heart hammering.
Then I saw it.
On the far wall, there was a painting I recognized. It was called "Sunset Over Water," and I knew it because I'd stood in front of it for twenty minutes during that field trip. It showed an ocean at sunset, with orange and pink sky reflecting on the waves. It had made me feel peaceful, like everything would be okay.
But now, taped to the frame, was a white envelope with my name on it.
"Maya, wait," Sebastian said, but I was already walking toward it.
I pulled the envelope off and opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper and a small silver key.
The note said: *"Maya—I'm sorry for dragging you into this. The key opens locker 247 at the bus station. Inside you'll find answers and something that belongs to you. Sebastian can't know about this. His life depends on it. Destroy this note. —C"*
"What does it say?" Sebastian asked, coming up behind me.
My mind raced. His life depends on it. What did that mean?
I quickly folded the note and shoved it in my pocket along with the key. "It's nothing. Just says she can't make it. That we should go home."
Sebastian frowned. "That's it? She dragged us all the way here just to say that?"
"I guess so."
He didn't look convinced, but before he could ask more questions, we heard something. A noise from the back room.
Sebastian put his finger to his lips. We both froze, listening.
Footsteps. Someone was here.
The lights suddenly blazed on, so bright I had to squint. When my eyes adjusted, I saw him.
A man in an expensive suit stood in the doorway. He was older, maybe fifty, with gray hair and cold blue eyes. Behind him were two men with guns.
"Hello, Maya," the man said, smiling. "I'm Vincent Moretti. And you and I need to have a talk about what my money is doing in your father's safe."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "My father's safe? I don't—"
"Your father works at Riverside Bank, doesn't he? As head of security?" Vincent took a step closer. "And three weeks ago, someone placed a deposit box in his personal vault. A box containing ten million dollars of my money."
"That's impossible," I said. "My dad would never—"
"Oh, your father doesn't know it's there," Vincent interrupted. "Because the person who put it there used his access codes. Codes that only three people in the world have." He smiled again, but it was the smile of a snake. "Your father, the bank manager, and you."
Sebastian stepped in front of me. "She doesn't know anything about this."
"Then perhaps she should ask her father about his safe. About what's hidden inside." Vincent's eyes narrowed. "You have twenty-four hours to bring me what's mine. If you don't, your family will pay the price."
"We can't just walk into a bank and steal from a safe!" I said, my voice shaking.
"Then I suggest you figure out how." Vincent turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, and Maya? That key in your pocket? The one Cara left you? That's not for a bus station locker. That's the key to your father's safe."
He walked out, his men following.
I pulled the key from my pocket and stared at it, my hands trembling.
How did he know about the key? How did he know everything?
"Maya," Sebastian said slowly. "What key is he talking about?"
But before I could answer, my phone buzzed again. Another text. This time it was a video.
I hit play, and my whole world shattered.
On the screen was my dad, tied to a chair in a dark room, a bruise on his face.
And standing behind him, holding a gun to his head, was a girl who looked exactly like Sebastian's sister.
"Hi, Maya," she said to the camera, smiling. "Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Cara Torres. And if you want your daddy to live, you'll do exactly what I say."