Chapter 12: The Descent
Agent Miller stood up from the table, slipping his tablet into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He signaled toward the hallway, where the two hotel security guards stood waiting, now joined by two federal marshals in plainclothes.
"Mrs. Chen," Miller said, his tone professional and uncompromising. "We need to accompany you down to the federal building for formal processing. You are entitled to legal counsel, and your attorney will be permitted to meet you at the intake facility."
Mei-Ling did not move immediately. She stood motionless by the armchair, staring at her reflection in the dark, rain-streaked window pane. The confident, aggressive woman who had pointed her finger and demanded introspection in the ballroom was completely gone, replaced by a solitary figure confronting the wreckage of her own ambition.
"Will Victor be there?" she asked quietly, her eyes still fixed on the glass.
"Mr. Chen was detained at his office twenty minutes ago," Miller replied gently.
Mei-Ling closed her eyes for a long moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. When she opened them again, the fierce defiance was entirely absent. She smoothed the front of her dark blue dress with a slow, mechanical movement, picked up her evening clutch from the side table, and turned to face the federal agents.
"Let's go," she said simply.
May you like
As the marshals escorted Mei-Ling out of the suite, Clara buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent, restrained emotion. David stood up awkwardly, offering Clara a sympathetic glance before following Agent Miller toward the door.
Saffron remained standing near the window, watching the tail lights of the federal vehicles flash red against the wet pavement below. The rain was finally beginning to clear, leaving behind a cold, crisp Chicago dawn that broke slowly over the horizon, washing the city in pale, honest light.
