Chapter 6: The Night They Came for Me
Chapter 6: The Night They Came for Me
The snow had started falling again by the time I locked the doors of Harbor Light Diner.
Buffalo looked peaceful.
Christmas lights reflected off fresh snow, and the streets were nearly empty.
For a few precious minutes, I convinced myself that the strange events of the past two days were finally over.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
I tucked the old photograph and handwritten note into my backpack before beginning the walk home.
Frank insisted on driving me.
"You've had enough excitement for one Christmas."
I laughed.
"You don't know the half of it."
"No," he admitted. "But I know when someone keeps looking over her shoulder."
I hadn't realized I was doing exactly that.
The feeling that someone was watching me had followed me since Anthony's visit.
Every passing car made me glance twice.
Every stranger seemed just a little too interested.
Ten minutes later, Frank dropped me outside my apartment building.
"Call me when you get upstairs."
"I will."
I never got the chance.
The hallway lights flickered.
Biscuit usually greeted me the moment I unlocked my apartment.
Tonight...
Nothing.
An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach.
I opened the door.
The apartment was silent.
Too silent.
"Biscuit?"
No answer.
I stepped inside carefully.
A chair had been knocked over.
One kitchen drawer hung open.
My bedroom door was half closed.
Someone had been here.
Before I could react, a voice came from the darkness.
"Don't scream."
I spun around.
A man stepped out from the shadows.
He wasn't wearing a mask.
He wasn't holding a weapon.
He looked to be in his sixties, dressed in an ordinary gray coat.
But his eyes...
They were filled with urgency.
"My name is Samuel Carter."
"I don't know you."
"I know."
"But I knew your grandmother."
Every instinct told me to run.
Instead, I reached into my pocket and quietly pressed the emergency call button on my phone without unlocking it.
Samuel noticed.
"Good."
I frowned.
"You should always prepare an escape."
That wasn't the response I'd expected.
He slowly raised both empty hands.
"I am not here to hurt you."
"Then why break into my apartment?"
"I didn't."
He looked toward the broken window at the back of the room.
"They did."
Only then did I notice the shattered glass.
Cold wind poured inside.
Someone really had forced their way in.
Samuel pointed toward my backpack.
"They're looking for what's inside."
My heart skipped.
"The photograph?"
His expression changed immediately.
"You found it."
"So you know about it."
"I helped hide it."
Before I could ask another question, tires screeched outside.
Samuel looked through the curtains.
His face lost all color.
"They're early."
Black SUVs.
Not Anthony's.
These carried no license plates.
Four men exited the lead vehicle.
Then four more.
Each wore dark tactical clothing.
None bothered hiding their faces.
"They found you."
My pulse raced.
"Who are they?"
Samuel answered with two words.
"The Ashcrofts."
A loud crash echoed downstairs.
Someone had kicked open the building's front entrance.
Neighbors screamed.
Heavy boots pounded up the stairwell.
Samuel turned toward me.
"Where's the photograph?"
I hesitated.
He barked,
"Emma!"
I handed him the backpack.
He opened it, pulled out the photograph, and stared for exactly one second.
His shoulders sagged.
"Oh, God..."
"What?"
"You're looking at the wrong child."
"What?"
He flipped the photograph over.
I had never thought to check the back.
Written in faded blue ink were four words.
Emma—Age Three.
I stared at him.
"No."
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
I looked at the front again.
The little girl.
The red coat.
The snow.
My grandmother.
I had assumed it wasn't me because the picture looked decades old.
Samuel quietly explained.
"That photograph was reprinted years later from the original negative."
"The paper isn't from 1989."
"It's from 1997."
My knees nearly gave out.
"You mean..."
"Yes."
"The little girl isn't Anthony's sister."
His eyes met mine.
"The little girl is you."
The apartment door exploded inward.
Wood splintered across the floor.
Three armed men rushed inside.
Samuel shoved me toward the bedroom.
"Run!"
Gunfire shattered the windows.
I screamed.
Samuel overturned the kitchen table, using it as cover.
One attacker shouted,
"Take the girl alive!"
Another answered,
"The old man doesn't matter!"
Samuel pulled a small pistol from inside his coat.
The first shot struck a light fixture.
Glass rained across the room.
"Fire escape!" he yelled.
I ran.
Barefoot.
Still wearing my diner uniform.
The metal fire escape was coated in ice.
Behind me, more gunshots echoed through the apartment.
I didn't dare look back.
Across town, Anthony was halfway through reviewing security footage when Daniel burst into his office.
"Sir!"
Anthony stood instantly.
"What happened?"
Daniel's face was pale.
"Emma."
Anthony felt his stomach tighten.
"What about her?"
Daniel held up a phone showing live drone footage.
Smoke poured from my apartment building.
Police sirens screamed through the streets.
Emergency lights painted the snow red and blue.
"There was an attack."
Anthony didn't wait for another word.
"Get the convoy."
Within fifteen seconds, ten black SUVs were racing through Buffalo.
Anthony sat in the lead vehicle, gripping the armrest so tightly his knuckles turned white.
For the first time in years...
He was afraid.
Not for himself.
For the young waitress who had shown his lonely mother kindness without asking for anything in return.
Back at the apartment building, I climbed down the frozen fire escape as fast as I could.
Halfway to the alley, one of the rusted bolts snapped.
The entire platform lurched violently.
I lost my footing.
The world spun.
Then I fell.
Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.
I looked up, expecting another attacker.
Instead...
It was Anthony.
He had somehow arrived just in time.
"You always manage to find trouble," he said, trying to sound calm despite the fear in his eyes.
Before I could answer, Samuel leaned over the broken fire escape above us.
Blood stained his gray coat.
His voice was weak.
"Anthony..."
Anthony looked up.
"You know me?"
Samuel nodded.
"I promised your father..."
He coughed violently.
"...I'd protect both his children."
Anthony froze.
Both.
His children.
Samuel used the last of his strength to throw a small brass key down into Anthony's hands.
"There isn't one secret child..."
He smiled sadly at Emma.
"There were two."
A sniper's shot rang out through the snowy night.
Samuel collapsed backward out of sight.
Anthony stared at the key lying in his palm.
Engraved on it were three words that would change everything:
St. Agnes Orphanage.
May you like
Somewhere inside that forgotten building lay the truth about Anthony's missing sister...
...and the impossible connection between the Moretti family and the waitress whose life had just become the center of a deadly thirty-five-year conspiracy.
