Chapter 10
The dim light of a single kerosene lamp cast long, flickering shadows across the rustic wooden table where David sat poring over the documents he had managed to smuggle out of the hospital archive. Outside, the pine trees whispered in the evening wind, their branches scraping softly against the cabin's weathered exterior. Leo sat across from him, leaning over the papers with an intensity that seemed unnatural for a child his age. His pale face was illuminated by the amber glow of the lamp as his small finger traced a series of numerical codes written in the margins of his grandfather's notes.
"It's not just a ledger, Dad," Leo murmured, his eyes darting across the columns of numbers with effortless precision. "It's a routing table. Grandfather didn't just move babies; he moved funds, medical patents, and real estate titles across shell corporations linked to the hospital's board of directors."
David watched his son with a mixture of awe and deep, underlying sorrow. He had always known Leo was exceptionally bright, but the cold, analytical way the boy processed the labyrinthine conspiracy felt as though Richard Miller’s ghost was actively guiding his grandson's hand from beyond the grave. David reached across the table and placed a gentle hand over Leo's fingers, stopping them.
"Leo, look at me," David said softly.
The boy looked up, his dark eyes meeting his father’s with unwavering seriousness.
"You don't have to carry this," David continued, his voice heavy with emotion. "You're a child. You should be worried about school, and friends, and riding bikes. I am going to fix this so you never have to think about your grandfather's legacy again."
Leo shook his head slowly, a faint, sad smile touching the corners of his mouth. "You can't outrun a legacy, Dad. Grandfather made sure of that. He designed us to see the patterns in the noise. If we don't finish this, they'll find us, and they'll take the baby back."
From the adjacent room, the soft, rhythmic breathing of Clara and the infant offered a brief, fragile reminder of what they were fighting to protect. Clara had finally fallen asleep after hours of crying, holding the baby against her chest as if loosening her grip for even a second would cause the world to fracture completely.
A sudden, sharp sound outside broke the quiet hum of the cabin.
It wasn't the wind. It was the crunch of heavy gravel beneath the tires of a vehicle creeping slowly up the unpaved driveway, its headlights turned off to avoid detection in the deep woods.
David extinguished the kerosene lamp with a swift puff of breath, plunging the room into total darkness save for the dying embers of the fireplace. He motioned for Leo to stay low, drawing a heavy hunting knife from his belt as he silently crept toward the front window to peer through the cracked wooden blinds.
May you like
Creeping through the shadows of the moonlit driveway was a single black SUV, its high beams completely dark, rolling toward the cabin like a predatory shadow.
***
