But now he had proof, proof of truth, of injustice, of purpose. The world had taken his fortune, his name, his pride. But now, holding Janelle’s drive in his hands, Ethan realized something deeper.
It hadn’t taken his soul. Tomorrow, he would go to the FBI. Tomorrow, he would make this right.
But somewhere downtown, in a glass office lit by moonlight, Greg Sanders poured himself a drink and stared at a photo on his phone, Ethan stepping out of Loretta’s building. He smiled coldly. So that’s where you’ve been hiding.
Greg Sanders’ office overlooked the city like a throne built from glass and arrogance. The skyline glittered below him every light, a reminder of his power. Every shadow, a secret he owned.
But that night, his reflection in the window looked different, older, harder, desperate. He swirled the bourbon in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the city’s glow. Walker’s alive, he muttered.
His assistant, a slim man with cold eyes named Pierce, stood silently near the door. He’s been seen in Harlem, a small apartment building on 133rd. And he’s been meeting with Jennifer Price.
Greg’s jaw tightened. The journalist? Yes, sir. She’s been snooping again.
According to our source, she’s asking questions about Janelle Johnson. Greg turned sharply. That woman’s been dead for a year.
What does she matter now? Pierce hesitated. Apparently, she left something behind. Greg’s grip on the glass tightened until it cracked.
She left me a problem. One that should have been handled. He set the broken glass on the desk and leaned forward.
If Walker found something, anything connected to her, I want it gone. You understand? Yes, sir. Quietly, Greg added, his voice low and dangerous.
No police, no noise. If he wants to play hero, let’s remind him how villains win. Pierce nodded and left.
Greg turned back to the window, the bourbon dripping from his fingers. For the first time in years, he felt the faint tremor of fear. He buried it quickly beneath rage.
You should have stayed dead, Ethan. Across town, Ethan couldn’t sleep. The flash drive lay on the table beside him, glinting under the lamp like something sacred.
Loretta and Anna were asleep, their breathing soft through the thin walls. He replayed Janelle’s message over and over, every word slicing through him. She’d trusted him, trusted that someone good would find the truth.
Now it was up to him to finish what she started. At dawn, he headed out, taking the subway downtown. The train rattled through the tunnels, lights flickering across tired faces.
A woman in scrubs dozed against the window. A man hummed softly to himself. Ethan found himself studying them the quiet dignity of people who worked, struggled, endured.
He wasn’t just fighting for himself anymore. He was fighting for all of them. He met Jennifer outside a diner near Federal Plaza.
The air smelled of rain and coffee. She wore a dark coat and a worried expression. I didn’t sleep, she said.
Neither did I, he replied. They slid into a booth. Jennifer opened her laptop, her fingers trembling slightly.
I sent the files to two people I trust. One at the Chronicle, one at the Bureau. But Ethan, there’s something you need to know.
Uh, what? Someone’s been following me since last night. Ethan’s stomach dropped. Greg? Or someone working for him? I can’t prove it yet, but… She stopped mid-sentence as her eyes flicked to the window.
Don’t turn around. Black sedan, across the street. Ethan glanced casually at his reflection in the window.
Two men sat inside the car, one pretending to read a newspaper. His pulse quickened. They’re not here for me, he said quietly.
They’re here for the drive. Uh… Jennifer swallowed hard. We can’t go to the FBI until we know who we can trust.
Greg has friends everywhere. Then we’ll find someone who can’t be bought, Jennifer hesitated. I might know one person, Special Agent Harold Klein.
He left the Bureau last year, after exposing corruption in the Financial Crimes Division. If anyone can help… It’s him. Can you reach him? She nodded.
But we’ll need to move fast. If those men follow me, they’ll find Loretta and Anna. Ethan’s jaw set.
Then I’ll lead them away. Jennifer looked alarmed. Ethan… He was already sliding out of the booth.
Get to Klein. I’ll call you when it’s safe. Outside, the morning rush had begun.
Ethan walked quickly, feeling the eyes on him. He crossed streets, ducked through a market, and finally broke into a run. The sedan’s engine roared to life behind him.
For a man who hadn’t run in months, Ethan found new strength. He darted into an alley, climbed a chain-link fence, dropped into a crowded courtyard. The car couldn’t follow here.
He pushed through a side gate, emerging onto a street lined with buses and delivery trucks. He spotted a cab pulling away from the curb. Taxi! He shouted, jumping in.
Harlem 133rd and Lenox. And step on it. The driver eyed him in the rearview mirror.
You in trouble, man? Just late for something important, Ethan said, forcing a calm he didn’t feel. The ride north was a blur of sirens, horns, and flashing lights. Ethan kept checking behind them.
The sedan appeared twice then vanished. By the time he reached Loretta’s building, his shirt clung to him with sweat. He climbed the stairs two at a time.
Loretta was in the hallway, folding laundry. She looked up, startled. Lord, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.
Close enough, Ethan said. Where’s Anna? In her room. What happened? Greg knows, he said grimly.
He knows we have the evidence. Loretta’s hand went to her chest. Oh dear God.
Ethan moved to the window peering down at the street. Nothing yet. We have to get Anna somewhere safe.
Loretta squared her shoulders. There’s a church two blocks over Street Luke’s. Pastor Jerome owes me favors.
You take her there, I’ll pack what we need. Ethan nodded. Thank you, a small voice called from the hallway.
Mr. E? Anna stood there, clutching her stuffed rabbit, her eyes wide. Why are you scared? Ethan knelt, trying to steady his voice. I’m not scared, kid.
Just being careful. She frowned. You’re lying.
You always look like that when you’re scared. He smiled despite everything. You’re too smart for me.
She touched his face gently. Mama used to say, when you’re scared, that means you still care. So don’t be ashamed.
He swallowed hard. I’m not ashamed, Anna. I’m grateful.
Down the street, an engine idled. Ethan looked out the window again and froze. The black sedan had returned this time.
Parking right across the street, two men stepped out, scanning the building. Loretta, he said sharply. We have to move, now.
She grabbed a bag from the couch. Go out the back. The alley leads to the church.
Ethan scooped Anna into his arms. Hold on tight. As they slipped down the back stairs, Anna whispered in his ear.
Are we running away? He nodded. Just until we can make things right. Uh, outside.
Rain had begun to fall soft at first, then steady. Ethan kept to the shadows, moving quickly through the narrow alley. He could hear voices behind them…
