2025-06-13 05:28:46
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Aria's Fight Back
Aria stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fingers trembling as she tried to fasten the button on the borrowed shirt Eliot had given her. The fabric felt too clean, too whole, too much like it belonged to someone else. Her face stared back at her—tired, bruised, and older than she remembered. But her eyes… her eyes were steady.She took a deep breath, but it caught in her throat. Her mind pulled her back, unwillingly, to the past.“You think you're something now?”His voice was sharp, cruel.SLAP.Her cheek had burned for hours after that one.“You wear what I tell you to. You speak when I allow it. Do you hear me?”She had nodded. Not because she agreed, but because saying no had consequences.She remembered the cracked plates, the way her body had flinched every time his boots hit the wooden floor. The insults. The silence. The way he stared at her like she was an object—just another asset he had purchased and owned.A small sound escaped her lips. It wasn’t a sob. It was something
Echoes in The Code
Rain tapped lightly against the windows now, soft and steady like a ticking clock. Eliot sat at the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the wrist device that refused to speak. Max lay at his feet, ears perked, his body still as stone.Aria had fallen asleep again, wrapped in a blanket he’d tucked around her an hour ago. Her breathing had finally evened out, though her hand still twitched now and then, like it remembered pain.The phone rang.He picked it up on the first buzz.“Renna?”“I found something,” she said, and her voice sounded off—uneasy. “Eliot, this isn’t just about a collapsed factory or a rich investor with ties to Sentinel.”His stomach sank. “Go on.”“I kept digging into the shell company—Kelmere Holdings. You were right. They own the textile factory where Aria’s parents worked. But I traced the financials and found odd shipments listed under a fake division. The records are scrubbed clean, but I caught a few logs from two years ago.”“What kind of sh
Doubts on The System
Eliot stood by the window, arms folded as he watched the quiet street outside. Morning light filtered through the blinds, painting pale stripes across his face. Aria was still asleep on the couch, her breaths even, one hand curled under her chin, as if bracing against something even in dreams.Max lay close to her, unmoving but watchful.Eliot tapped the interface on his wrist—faint flicker, no response. Just as before. The silence unnerved him more than any words could have. He turned away, walked into the kitchen, and reached for his phone.“Renna,” he said the moment she picked up.“Took you long enough,” her voice was laced with concern and curiosity. “You disappeared last night. I saw your location flicker out around Westfield.”“I found her,” Eliot said flatly.There was a pause. Then, “The girl?”“Yes. She’s safe. But it’s worse than I thought.” He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, grounding himself. “I need a deep dive. The textile factory her parents worked at. Every d
The Truth Behind Aria’s Miserable life.
The door clicked shut behind them. Eliot led Aria into the house without a word. Max trailed them, tail low, sensing the storm in the silence.Inside, the living room felt too quiet. The walls were lined with old books and monitors, but for once, Eliot didn’t head to the desk. He walked into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and handed it to her.Aria sat on the edge of the couch, knees pressed together, hands trembling slightly as she took the glass. She didn’t drink. Just stared at the water, like it held all the answers she’d never found.Eliot stood across from her, arms folded, watching the flicker of pain in her expression. The bruise on her cheek was darker now in the warm light. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, but only one slipped out first.“How… how did this happen?” he asked quietly. “The sister told me you were adopted.”Aria blinked slowly. A tear slipped down her cheek, landing in the glass she still held.“I was,” she said, her voice rough. “Adopted by a kind
The Face Behind The Door
Eliot sat on the edge of his bed, the file still clutched in his hands. His eyes were fixed on the name—Aria Cross—and the address beneath it. It should’ve felt like progress, but instead, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.He picked up his phone and dialed."Renna," he said when the call connected.“Boss?” she answered, sounding half-asleep. “It’s 2 a.m.”“I need a favor. A big one.”Renna groaned. “Bigger than helping you ghost-hack that cartel leader’s safe files last year?”“Bigger,” he said. “I need you to find someone. Aria Cross. I have an old address—67 Maple Hollow Lane in Greenridge Township—but the people there said she moved.”Renna’s tone shifted immediately. “Got it. Give me fifteen.”The call ended. Eliot stood, heart pounding. He paced the room while Max curled up in the corner, eyes following him silently.Fourteen minutes later, his phone buzzed.“I got something,” Renna said. “Her name pops up in a community registry, rural area not far from Greenridge. P
The Search for Aria Cross
The drive to Greenridge Township felt longer than the distance on the map.As Eliot guided the car along the winding road, trees lined both sides like silent sentinels. Their branches arched overhead, filtering golden light across the cracked pavement. The file folder rested on the passenger seat beside Max, its single address still etched in Eliot’s mind: 67 Maple Hollow Lane.It was a quiet neighborhood, tucked away from the world—as if time had forgotten it. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance. A swing on a tree swayed gently in the breeze, its rusted chains creaking with every gust.Eliot parked near the curb and stepped out. Max followed closely, nose twitching at the unfamiliar scents.There it was. The house.Two stories tall, weathered but still standing proud. The shutters were painted a faded blue, and flowerpots lined the front steps. It looked like the kind of home where people laughed in the kitchen, where bedtime stories were read under warm blankets. Eliot’s heart t
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