Chapter 5 - The Final Gamble
The confrontation in the basement was not a shootout; it was a psychological dismantling. I led Silas into the game room, where the home security monitors were still active. I turned the tables on him—literally. I used the remote to lock the electronic doors, trapping him in the very room Lauren had used to monitor her victims.
"You're not getting the data, Silas," I said, my voice echoing through the intercom.
"The boy is already dead to me," he sneered, his voice smooth and cold. "Lauren was a pathetic tool, but the data is worth more than a dozen children."
"The data is already in the hands of the FBI," I lied, watching him panic. "And the ledger? The one that links you to the offshore account? It’s currently being decrypted by the people you stole from."
He lunged for the server rack, but he was too late. The sirens outside had already arrived. The police didn't just breach the room; they flooded it. As he was dragged out in cuffs, I didn't feel triumph. I felt an exhausting, hollow relief.
But then, my phone buzzed. It was the hospital.
May you like
"Ms. Bennett," the doctor said, his voice hesitant. "Noah... his heart rate just spiked. He’s waking up."
I sprinted out of the house, not caring about the reporters, the police, or the ledger. I drove until the engine screamed, arriving at the ER just as the morning light broke over the horizon.
