Chapter 4 - The Vanishing at 138th Street
"My mother gave it to me," Leo said, leaning across the table, his young voice dropping into a tense whisper. "Three nights ago. Men came to our place. They wore black jackets with no badges. They smashed the lights, took her, and threw her into a black van."
Arthur’s hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned chalk white. "Your mother... her name is Julianna?"
"Yes," Leo confirmed. "Julianna Rosewood."
Arthur buried his face in his hands, a ragged sigh escaping his chest. "God forgive me... I thought she was dead. They told me thirty years ago that the car crash took her and her mother."
"She isn't dead," Leo insisted, his knuckles white as he clenched his small fists. "She told me to find you. She said you were the only person who had the clearance code to open the Rosewood Vault."
Outside the booth, the soft piano music playing through the restaurant speakers abruptly cut out.
The heavy glass entrance doors of L’Étoile Dorée creaked open. Leo’s eyes flicked past Arthur’s shoulder toward the foyer. Three tall men in matching dark raincoats stepped into the warm lighting of the dining room. They didn't look like diners. Their hair was cropped close to the scalp, their hands rested deliberately inside their coat pockets, and their eyes scanned the room with practiced, lethal precision.
May you like
Clara, the waitress, stepped up to them, pointing a discreet finger toward the back corner booth where Arthur sat with the kids.
"Arthur," Leo hissed, panic instantly seizing his throat. "They're here."
