Chapter 7 - THE WESTBRIDGE TRAP
"I can't do that, Miss Hannah," Daniel said, keeping his eyes on the road. "Boss's orders. Safe house."
"They have my mother!" I screamed, shoving the phone over the console so he could see the picture. "Isabella didn't go to the airstrip. It was a decoy. She's at Westbridge!"
Daniel glanced at the screen. He cursed violently in Italian and slammed on the brakes. The heavy SUV skidded on the wet pavement, throwing us forward.
What's wrong? Sophie signed, her small hands shaking.
We have to help my mommy, I signed back, tears blurring my vision.
Daniel ripped the steering wheel hard, pulling an illegal U-turn that sent us hurtling toward the outskirts of the city.
Westbridge Residential Academy was an imposing, gothic brick building surrounded by high iron fences. It was supposed to be a school for special needs children, but under the moonlight, it looked exactly like what it was: a prison.
Daniel parked the SUV three blocks away in the shadows. He pulled two handguns from the glovebox, checking the magazines.
"You stay here with the kid," he ordered. "Lock the doors. I'm going in."
"I'm coming with you," I said fiercely. "She's my mother."
"Hannah, if things go bad in there—"
"If things go bad, Sophie is safer with me than sitting alone in a car," I argued.
Daniel hesitated, then gave a sharp nod. "Stay behind me. Do not make a sound."
We slipped through a rusted gap in the side gate. The academy was dark, silent, and smelling of bleach and old dust.
We moved through the sterile hallways, checking empty classrooms. Finally, we saw a sliver of light spilling from an office at the end of the corridor.
Daniel raised his weapon and kicked the door open.
"Clear!" he shouted.
But the room was empty.
A laptop sat on the desk, playing a looped video of my mother tied to a chair.
It was a recording.
"It's a trap," Daniel realized, spinning around.
Before he could raise his gun, a blinding flash filled the room, followed by the deafening crack of a gunshot. Daniel fell backward, clutching his shoulder.
Isabella stepped out of the shadows from the adjacent closet. She was holding a suppressed pistol, her designer gown stained with mud and rain.
"You really are incredibly stupid, Hannah," Isabella sneered, kicking Daniel’s gun away. "Gabriel is tearing apart an empty airstrip looking for me. And you brought the one thing I needed right to my doorstep."
May you like
She pointed the gun at Sophie.
"Say goodbye to the waitress, little bird. It's time for school."
