Chapter 9
The rain began to drum a steady, melancholic tattoo against the corrugated tin roof of the converted boathouse overlooking the misty expanse of the outer harbor. It was a rustic hideaway belonging to an old college friend of David’s—a marine biologist currently stationed in the Aleutians—who had given David the key years ago with standing permission to use it whenever city life became too suffocating.
Mei sat on a worn plaid sofa near a small propane heater, rocking Leo gently as he finally drifted back into a deep, untroubled sleep. The room was sparse, smelling of salt water, old canvas, and woodsmoke. Outside, the grey dawn had fully broken, turning the choppy waters of the bay into a sheet of hammered lead.
The front door unlocked with a sharp click, and David stepped inside, carrying their two charcoal suitcases and shaking the heavy mist from his shoulders. He looked exhausted, his white shirt stained with dirt from the garden scuffle and his black tie entirely missing, but his eyes burned with a fierce, victorious light. He locked the heavy bolt behind him before collapsing onto the wooden stool opposite Mei.
"Did anyone follow you?" Mei asked softly, her voice raspy from the cold morning air.
"No," David said, running a hand through his damp hair. "I ditched the taxi three blocks away and doubled back through the fish market before grabbing another cab to the marina. I encrypted the flash drive and uploaded the entire ledger to a secure cloud server managed by an international civil rights attorney I trust implicitly. By the time the markets open this morning, Eleanor’s legal team will be too busy fighting off a federal securities investigation to send anyone looking for us."
Mei let out a long, shuddering breath, the tension that had gripped her spine since the dinner table finally beginning to dissolve. She looked down at Leo, whose tiny hand was curled into a fist against the beige fabric of her dress. "And what happens now, David? We can't live in a boathouse forever. Your family owns half the commercial real estate in this city."
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David stood up, walking over to the small kitchen counter to pour two cups of instant coffee from a chipped ceramic kettle. He handed one to Mei, his fingers brushing hers. "We don't need their real estate, Mei. We have each other, we have our son, and for the first time in my life, I actually own my own name."
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and laid it on the scarred wooden table. It was a printed itinerary for a flight departing late tonight for a quiet coastal town in the Pacific Northwest—far away from corporate boardrooms, family dynasties, and gilded dining halls where human beings were treated like chess pieces.
