Chapter 2: Men in Charcoal**
The two men moved with the quiet efficiency of trained predators. Their charcoal suits bore no emblems, but the discreet silver earpieces tucked behind their ears signaled institutional authority.
"Hold that terminal," the taller man said, his voice cutting through the lobby like a sharp blade.
Arthur’s hand hovered above the keypad, frozen between fear of the suited men and awe of the nine-figure balance on the screen. He glanced at Mrs. Vance, but the manager was utterly paralyzed.
"My name is Agent Cross," the tall man continued, flashing a federal badge just long enough for Mrs. Vance’s eyes to widen. "This card is linked to a restricted asset portfolio under active federal audit. Step away from the boy."
Leo didn’t flinch. He didn’t run. He slowly pulled the card out of the machine himself and slipped it into the front pocket of his oversized hoodie.
"You're twelve minutes late, Agent Cross," Leo said quietly, looking at the ornate clock above the reception desk.
Cross frowned, caught off guard by the boy's eerie composure. "Excuse me?"
"Mr. Holloway told me that if you reached the hotel before four o'clock, it meant you were tracking the card's beacon," Leo explained. "He said if you were late, it meant you had to stop at the precinct first to get a warrant you couldn't legally sign."
Cross’s jaw tightened. The second agent took half a step forward, his hand drifting instinctively toward his jacket lapel, but Cross raised a palm to stop him.
"You shouldn't have this, kid," Cross said, his tone dropping from aggressive to cautiously manipulative. "Thomas Holloway was a dangerous man. The money on that card isn't what you think it is."
"I don't care what it is," Leo replied, his young voice carrying an emotional weight far beyond his years. "I only know what it does. It pays the oxygen bill for Room 402 at St. Jude’s."
The lobby fell deathly silent again. Mrs. Vance’s hand went to her mouth.
"Holloway didn't keep this money for himself," Leo whispered, looking directly into Cross's cold eyes. "He was holding it for the kids your department forgot."
May you like
Before Cross could answer, the boy spun on his heel and bolted toward the service exit behind the concierge desk.
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