CHAPTER 3

Elara’s POV

It was supposed to be another quiet night in our little apartment. Mom was in the living room, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her, flipping through a magazine. Ethan was in the kitchen, probably eating the leftovers from the diner, like he always did after school. I was on the floor, thinking of life and how things would get better for Us. My mind kept wandering, thinking about Mom and how she’d been feeling lately. She was getting worse, and I could see it. The way her coughs were longer, more frequent, and how she’d start a sentence only to trail off halfway through, out of breath. I hated it, but what could I do? I wasn’t a doctor.

Ethan’s voice cut through my thoughts as he walked into the living room, pizza in hand. “Hey, you done yet? I’m starving.”

“I’m trying to finish this, Ethan. Hold on,” I said, still scribbling down answers that made less sense the longer I looked at them.

He flopped down on the couch next to Mom, taking a big bite of pizza and making a show of how good it was. Mom smiled at him, but her eyes weren’t fully on him. She was lost in her own thoughts, her fingers playing with the edge of her magazine while she was lost in thoughts.

The apartment felt quiet—almost too quiet. The only sounds were the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional cough from Mom. I didn’t know why, but the stillness made me uneasy, like something was about to happen.

Then it came.

A loud, violent knock rattled the door. The kind of noise that made my heart drop into my stomach. It wasn’t a knock. It was more like someone had slammed their fist against it. I looked at Mom and Ethan, and I saw it in their eyes. They felt it too. Something wasn’t right. The door rattled again, harder this time.

“Who is it?” Mom asked, her voice shaking. She had stood up quickly, but she didn’t move to the door. Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, her eyes scanning the room like she was looking for a way out that wasn’t there. Ethan stood, too, his hand frozen on the pizza box as his face turned pale.

“Mom, who’s knocking this late?” I asked, my voice too loud, too nervous.

Before she could answer, there was another loud crash—this time the door actually gave way. It slammed open with enough force that the wood splintered. My breath caught in my throat.

Two huge men filled the doorway. Their bodies were thick with muscle, and they both looked like they had come straight from some nightmare. They weren’t here to make friends.

“What the hell?” Ethan said under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. I could feel his fear. My own was like a pit in my stomach.

Mom was already moving toward us, trying to shield me and Ethan, though I could see the panic creeping into her eyes. Her voice was tight, trembling as she shouted, “Who are you?! What do you want?!”

The man closest to her—he was the bigger one, his arms bulging under his black jacket—grabbed her by the arm, pulling her toward him like she was weightless. “Shut up,” he snapped, his voice low and cold. “It’s the boss’s order.”

The words didn’t make sense. The boss’s order? Who was the boss? And what did they want with us? My head was spinning, but all I could focus on was the way this man’s hand was wrapped around Mom’s arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

“Let go of her!” I shouted, trying to move toward her, but the second man, the one standing in the doorway, stepped forward. His eyes locked on mine, his gaze icy. I froze. I couldn’t move. Something about the way he looked at me—like I was prey—made my body lock up.

“Stay where you are, girl,” the second man said, his voice as cold as the first.

“No,” I whispered, my heart thumping in my chest. “Let her go.”

“Shut up,” the first man snapped again. He turned his attention back to Mom. “This has nothing to do with you, lady,” he said, his voice low. “Just stay out of the way.”

Mom’s face was pale, her eyes wide with fear. “Who sent you? What do you want with my daughter?” Her voice cracked with desperation.

The man didn’t even flinch at her words. He just glanced at the second guy, who was still blocking the doorway, making sure no one could escape. He looked back at Mom and said, “The boss doesn’t answer questions. He just gives orders.”

“The boss?!” Mom repeated, her voice rising in panic. “Who is he? What the hell does he want with Elara?”

My heart was pounding, the blood rushing to my ears. They weren’t here for Mom, or Ethan—at least, not yet. It was me they wanted. I could feel the man’s hand on my arm, pulling me closer to him. “No,” I whispered, trying to jerk my arm away, but it was like trying to fight against a wall.

“Let me go!” I screamed, panicked. “I didn’t do anything! I don’t know what you want!”

The man looked at me with an emotionless stare. “Quiet,” he muttered, dragging me toward the door. His grip was unrelenting, and I could feel myself stumbling to keep up. My mind raced—who were these men? What was happening? Why were they doing this?

“Mom!” I cried out, my voice breaking. “Mom, help!”

Mom reached toward me, her hand outstretched, but the man at the door pushed her back with one hand, sending her stumbling into the wall. “No!” she cried, her voice full of fear and helplessness.

“Let her go!” Ethan shouted, his voice angry now. He stepped forward, but the second man grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground like he was a ragdoll.

“You stay out of this, kid,” the second man growled, shoving Ethan back into the wall. Ethan’s head hit the drywall with a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the floor.

“Ethan!” Mom screamed, but the first man didn’t give her a second to breathe. He dragged me outside into the cold night air, and my body shook from both the chill and the terror.

“No!” I screamed again, looking back at Mom and Ethan, but the door slammed behind me, and I was pulled further away from them.

“Where are you taking me?!” I demanded, my voice cracking. “What do you want from me?!”

The first man didn’t answer. He only kept moving, his grip unyielding, his expression cold. I kept trying to pull away, but it was useless.

“I’ll scream,” I threatened, though I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. “Someone will hear me.”

“Do it,” he said without a flicker of emotion in his voice. “No one’s coming.”

I didn’t know how he could be so sure, but I could feel the truth in his words. No one was coming. And no one knew what was happening here.

The world was spinning, and I couldn’t find a way to stop it.