2025-06-08 00:01:30Ling 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,
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114
The morning of the job fair dawned clear and bright, the kind of day that made the whole city feel hopeful. Brent stood outside the new Community Center, watching the line of job seekers stretch down the block. Sunlight glinted off glass doors. Banners read: “A New Start Begins Today.” The Phoenix Foundation’s blue logo fluttered on every table. Jessica and Tommy checked in volunteers, passing out badges and breakfast. Lucy wrangled the early crowd, keeping nerves settled and spirits high. Adam hovered in the control room, eyes on security feeds, triple-checking every alert. Brent greeted each person with a handshake, a smile, sometimes a quiet word. He’d learned that hope was contagious, and today, he wanted it to go viral. He’d put his heart and his company into this fair. Five hundred jobs, fair pay, new beginnings for people who’d had doors slammed in their faces. At ten, the new mayor’s office
113
Jessica was the last to leave the safehouse that morning. She watched the sun rise, and tried to shake off the fear from the night before. The breach had rattled everyone—especially the children. Hope clung to her mum for hours. But Jessica had work to do. She’d barely slept. Her mind turned over every detail of Sarah’s network, every shadow left by Victor Lang, every unanswered question about the syndicate. She poured coffee, opened her laptop, and dove into a stack of files Adam had flagged. Most were dead ends—shell companies, fake names, money trails that vanished overseas. But one entry caught her eye: a logistics company, Eastgate Holdings. It looked ordinary at first—shipping, storage, warehouses. But the addresses didn’t match. One site was listed as “inactive,” but the power bills were sky-high. There were deliveries at midnight, payments from strange accounts, sudden bursts of data traffic. Jessica dug deepe
112 - The End Of Sarah Chen?!
Brent woke to the sound of his phone buzzing, a sound he’d come to hate. It was still dark, sky just turning gray. He answered on the first ring, already braced for bad news. Adam’s voice crackled through, urgent and afraid. “Brent, we’ve got a situation. Sarah’s made her move.” Brent was out of bed before Adam finished. “What happened?” “She’s kidnapped the family of one of our new hires. Carlos. His wife and two kids. They never made it home from church last night. We just got a ransom video. She says if we go to the police, they’re gone.” Brent’s heart hammered. He remembered Carlos—quiet man, always early, always grateful. He’d lost his last job because Sarah’s father, Robert, had shut down the plant. Carlos had almost lost everything. Now this. Brent pulled on his clothes and ran outside. The city was waking, but to him, it felt like the world was holding its
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,
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