Night fell gently, as if the city itself was trying not to draw attention.
The house settled into a fragile calm after the burial—relatives gone, condolences exhausted, grief left to echo against bare walls. Lena sat on the edge of her bed, shoes still on, black dress creased and heavy against her skin. Every sound felt amplified: the tick of the clock, the creak of the ceiling, her own breathing.
Sela lay curled on the mattress beside her, staring at nothing. Bena paced the room, restless, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand like he was angry at the tears for existing.
Their mother moved quietly through the hallway, gathering cups, straightening pillows that didn't need straightening. She stopped only when Mr Tan's voice drifted in from the living room.
"Tea will help you sleep," he said calmly. "All of you. Tonight has been… too much."
Their mother hesitated.
"We're not sleeping," Lena replied flatly. "None of us are."
Mr Tan smiled gently, the kind of smile that invited trust. "That's exactly why."
Minutes later, warm mugs rested in their hands. The tea smelled faintly herbal—chamomile, something sharper beneath it. Lena took a sip without thinking. Bena drained his halfway in one go. Sela barely finished hers before setting it down.
It happened slowly.
The room tilted, just a little. The edges of the walls softened. Lena blinked hard, frowning.
"Sela?" she murmured. "Do you feel—"
Her sister didn't answer.
Bena swayed, grabbing the bedframe. "Why is it… spinning?"
Panic flared—but only briefly. Her limbs grew heavy, thoughts dissolving like ink in water. The last thing Lena felt was Mr Tan's steady hands catching her before she hit the floor.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not unkindly. "This is the only way."
---
When Lena woke again, the world was humming.
An engine. Tires on gravel. Darkness broken by faint blue light slipping through curtained windows.
Her head throbbed. Her mouth was dry. She tried to move—and felt resistance.
Not restraints. Blankets. A seatbelt.
"Sela?" she croaked.
A soft groan answered. Bena stirred somewhere close.
They were in a van.
Panic surged this time—sharp, sobering. Lena forced herself upright, ignoring the dizziness.
Mr Tan sat across from them, coat folded neatly on his lap, eyes alert but calm.
"Don't fight it," he said quietly. "You'll make it worse."
"You drugged us," Lena snapped, fury cutting through the fog.
"Yes," he replied evenly. "And I'd do it again."
"Where is our mother?" Bena demanded, voice shaking.
Mr Tan looked away for the first time.
"She had to stay."
Lena's chest tightened. "Why?"
"Because she cannot disappear," he said. "And because some people are watching her… not you."
"That doesn't make sense," Sela whispered.
"It will," Mr Tan said. "Just not tonight."
The van turned sharply, then slowed. A gate creaked open somewhere ahead.
"No one knows this place," he added. "Not Moody. Not Brine. Not even the people who think they're five steps ahead."
The doors closed behind them with a final, echoing clang.
---
By morning, the house was empty.
Beds cold. Phones left behind. Shoes untouched by the door.
Moody stood in the living room, fists clenched, eyes dark with disbelief.
"No signs of struggle," one of his men said quietly. "No cameras caught anything unusual."
Moody turned slowly. "That means it was clean."
"Mr Tan?" another suggested.
Moody's jaw tightened. "No. He wouldn't—"
But even as he said it, doubt coiled in his chest.
He pulled out his phone. Calls went unanswered. Messages unread.
"They didn't just vanish," he said coldly. "They were taken."
Across the city, Brine slammed his glass against the wall of his office, shards scattering across the floor.
"Find them," he growled. "Search every safehouse, every route, every name Mr Tan has ever used."
His men moved fast.
And found nothing.
No trails. No witnesses. No mistakes.
It was as if Lena—and the others—had been erased.
---
By nightfall, whispers began to spread.
Hellfire convoys attacked on the east docks. A Rafferty warehouse burned to the ground in the south. Shots fired. Blood spilled. Messages sent without words.
Mr Rafferty stood amid the smoke, eyes gleaming with something close to satisfaction.
"They took her out from under us," he said. "That's not strategy. That's a declaration."
"Hellfire thinks you did it," one of his lieutenants warned.
Rafferty smiled. "Good."
Across the city, Hellfire answered with fire of their own.
Safehouses fell. Deals collapsed. Streets turned volatile.
All of it—
because Lena was gone.
---
Far from the city, surrounded by hills and silence, Lena stood by a narrow window, staring out at unfamiliar land.
Sela slept on a couch behind her. Bena sat on the floor, back against the wall, silent and furious.
Mr Tan watched them from the doorway.
"This is temporary," he said. "But it's necessary."
Lena didn't turn around.
"You left our mother," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"People will die because of this," she added.
He nodded once. "They already were."
Lena closed her eyes, the weight of it pressing down on her chest.
She didn't know who to trust anymore.
But one thing was clear—
Her escape hadn't saved her.
It had started a war.