Chapter 4 - The Unmasking
Midnight on the bridge was cold, the fog rolling off the Puget Sound like a shroud. I arrived early, my car parked hidden in the brush a mile back. I had the keys to my apartment and a burner phone, but I had left my real life behind. I was ready to burn it all down to save that boy.
Marcus stepped out from behind a concrete pillar. He looked older, gaunt, his eyes hollowed out by years of obsession. He held a gun—not at me, but at the dark sedan parked behind him, where I knew Toby was being kept.
"You're late, Alice," he rasped, the sound like gravel grinding together.
"Where is he, Marcus?" I screamed, my voice cutting through the wind. "He’s a child! What kind of monster are you?"
"The kind of monster you forced me to become!" he shouted back, stepping into the light. "I lost everything. The money, the estate, the reputation—all because of your 'honesty.' And now, you get to watch as the only thing you care about—the boy who carries his face—disappears just like he did."
He gestured to the car. A door opened, and Toby stepped out, his face pale but his eyes defiant. He didn't look scared anymore; he looked ready.
"Alice, don't listen to him!" Toby shouted.
Marcus leveled the gun at Toby. "Last chance. Tell me where the account keys are, or he goes over the side."
My mind raced. I didn't have the keys. I never had them. But I had something else. I had spent the last two days setting a trap. I had triggered a silent alarm in the old cabin property that would alert local authorities to a massive, illegal perimeter breach.
"The keys aren't in my head, Marcus," I said, walking toward him, my hands raised. "They're in the police evidence locker. I turned them over years ago, thinking they were useless. They’ve been waiting for someone like you to try and claim them."
Marcus’s eyes widened, his grip faltering for a split second. That was all the opening I needed. I lunged, not for the gun, but for his arm, twisting it with every ounce of rage I had stored for fifteen years.
A gunshot rang out, echoing off the water, but it went wide, hitting the pavement.
In that moment of chaos, sirens began to wail in the distance. The police were coming. Marcus looked toward the sound, panicked, his face contorting with rage. He looked at Toby, then back at me, his finger hovering over the trigger.
"You're not going anywhere, Marcus," I hissed, pinning him against the railing.
He laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "You think this ends here? You think you're safe now?"
He pushed me away, turning to run toward his car, but the flashing lights of the cruisers were already rounding the bend. He was cornered. As the officers swarmed the bridge, Marcus did the only thing he knew how to do: he fled, jumping into the dark, churning water below.
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I didn't care about him anymore. I turned and ran to Toby, dropping to my knees and pulling him into a crushing embrace. He was shivering, cold and terrified, but he was alive.
"I’ve got you," I sobbed into his hair. "I’ve got you."
