Chapter 5
The cold steel of the revolver gleamed under the stained-glass light, catching a ray of crimson red that made it look as though the weapon were dripping blood. Sarah instinctively pushed Leo slightly behind her, using her own bruised body as a fragile shield against the barrel. Her mind raced, calculating angles, exits, and the remaining seconds before the church sexton returned from his scheduled lunch break at the diner down the street.
"You think shooting us here solves anything, Arthur?" Sarah’s voice was remarkably steady, though her hands trembled as she clutched Leo’s shoulder. "The forensic audit is already scheduled for Monday morning. Even if we disappear, the digital copies of the ledgers uploaded to the federal server will automatically decrypt if I don't input my biometric key every twenty-four hours."
Arthur’s hand twitched slightly on the grip of the gun. A flicker of genuine doubt crossed his face, breaking through his icy facade for the first time. "You're bluffing. You wouldn't risk federal intervention; it would ruin the family name completely."
"Try me," Sarah challenged, stepping down another stair. "My father taught me how to set dead man's switches before you even learned how to balance a corporate ledger. If we don't walk out of these front doors together by five o'clock, every single illegal manifest from the past decade goes straight to the Department of Justice."
Thomas wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, looking back and forth between Arthur and Sarah like a spectator at a tennis match gone horribly wrong. "She... she might not be bluffing, Arthur. Sarah was always meticulous about the contingency protocols. Her father was paranoid about federal oversight."
Arthur lowered the gun by a fraction of an inch, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the risk. He knew Sarah; she was stubborn enough to burn down her own empire just to spite him. But he also knew that letting them walk out of the church meant the immediate end of his control over the board and likely a one-way ticket to a maximum-security federal penitentiary.
Seizing the micro-second of hesitation, Leo didn't wait for permission. Remembering the heavy iron ring of keys that the sexton always left hanging on the hook by the vestry door, the boy bolted sideways, darting behind the massive stone pillar supporting the choir loft.
"Leo, no!" Sarah cried out, but the boy was already gone, moving with the silent speed of a phantom.
Arthur snapped his attention back, raising the gun to track the boy, but Sarah lunged forward with a desperate surge of adrenaline, slamming her shoulder directly into Arthur’s chest. The larger man stumbled backward, his foot catching on the rim of the white coffin, and he went down hard against the wooden base with a grunt of pain. The revolver slipped from his grip, clattering across the stone floor and sliding into the dark shadows beneath the first row of pews.
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"Thomas! Grab the gun!" Arthur bellowed, scrambling to his feet with surprising agility.
Thomas stood frozen like a statue, staring at the sliding weapon, then at Sarah, who had dropped to her knees to search the floor for a heavy brass candleholder. The lawyer’s face twisted in an agony of indecision, his loyalties finally snapping under the crushing weight of impending murder.
