2025-05-29 13:24:06
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111
It started with a whisper. Ling heard it first, during a late-night intake at the Phoenix Foundation. A girl, small and pale, spoke in a voice that barely carried across the desk. She told Ling about a place—an old warehouse near the docks, locked from the outside, where people came and went at odd hours. She said it was bad. She said she had a friend still inside. Ling brought the news straight to Brent. He listened and was quite shocked. He called Adam, who started digging into shipping records and security footage. Jessica and Tommy cleared the night’s schedule. Lucy took Hope home and promised to call if anything seemed off. Brent didn’t wait. He called his private security team. Within an hour, they had a plan. Brent’s team pulled up behind the warehouse. The air was thick. Docks stretched into the darkness, cranes and stacks of containers looming like giants over the water. Brent wore black—no log
110
The day started soft, the way spring sometimes does. The city was quiet. Brent woke before sunrise. He checked his phone, and saw no new threats, no new warnings. For a moment he let himself believe things were settling. He’d learned not to trust moments like this. But he still hoped. Down at the Lucy Chen Orphanage, the hallways were filled with noise. Kids ran in circles, laughing. Lucy stood by the kitchen, stirring oatmeal, telling stories about her own childhood. Hope helped set the table, hands careful, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth. Jessica was there too, organizing a new library. She waved when Brent walked in, her eyes tired but warm. “We’ve got a big day,” she said. “A reporter’s coming this afternoon. She wants to see how the new art room is going.”"Mommy, you are my heroine," Hope said and smiled at her mom."Awwn.... I love you so much baby," Jessica smiled ba
109
Ling stood in the courtroom, hands folded, her eyes calm. The judge’s voice echoed off the marble walls. “Assets seized. All properties and accounts belonging to Marcus Reed are now under court control.” A hush fell over the room. Marcus Reed, sharp suit wrinkled and tie askew, slammed his fist on the table. He glared at Ling, hate burning in his eyes. But she didn’t blink. She was used to men like him—men who thought they could do anything, buy anyone. Brent watched from the back bench. He saw the way Reed tried to stare Ling down, but she never flinched. She only stood taller, chin up. Brent felt a nothing but pride. Ling’s work had been hard—months of digging, reading, and late nights with files spread across her kitchen table. But in the end, she’d done it. Reed’s trafficking ring was finished. Outside, reporters crowded the courthouse steps. Cameras flashed, mics shoved into faces. Brent pushed through,
108
The sun was barely up when Brent stepped out of his car and looked up at his newest building. It was tall, all glass and steel, standing above New York like a promise. Today, it wasn’t just a skyscraper. Today, it was hope. Brent walked inside, greeted by the buzz of voices. The lobby was packed. Tables filled the wide halls. Banners read: “You Deserve a New Start.” Volunteers handed out coffee and breakfast sandwiches. People lined up, nervous and excited. For many, it was their first real shot at a job. Brent’s team was everywhere. Jessica ran the sign-in desk, smiling, helping calm the nerves of people just out of shelters. Tommy and Lucy moved through the crowd, answering questions, pointing people to employers. Adam stood in a glass-walled office, eyes glued to his laptop, ready for anything. By nine, the job fair was in full swing. Brent walked the floor, shaking hands, telling everyone the s
107
The morning started with good news. The Phoenix Foundation’s shelters were packed with laughter and hope. Brent had just signed a $50 million donation—his biggest yet. The money would build new shelters, open kitchens, and pay for doctors and teachers. Brent felt proud. He looked at Hope’s drawing on his desk and smiled. For a moment, he let himself believe things were getting better. Then Jessica rushed in, pale and breathless, a file clutched in her hands. “Brent, there’s a problem with the new fruit drink shipment.” Brent’s smile faded. “What kind of problem?” Jessica swallowed. “Customs found something strange. A hidden panel in one of the crates. Inside… it’s cocaine. A lot of it.” The room went quiet. Everyone looked at Brent. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and stood. “Who packed the shipment?” he asked, voice steady. Tommy pulled up the records. “I
106
The sun was just coming up over the city. Brent sat at his desk, quiet, thinking. He had not slept much. Hope was safe, but the war was not over. The “big boss” was still out there. Jake Smith was still free. And now, Brent knew there was a mole in his own team. He called Jessica, Tommy, and Adam to the war room. The air was tense. Everyone was tired, but sharp. “We need to find out who the mole is talking to,” Brent said. “We need to trap them. We need to bring Jake down before he runs again.” Jessica nodded. She had dark circles under her eyes. “What’s the plan?” Brent smiled, but it was a hard smile. “We feed the mole a story. Something Jake will want. Something only the mole would know.” Adam looked scared. He was still shaken after being caught as a mole himself, but Brent had let him stay. He was h
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