Luna and Maya's special place. The hidden space behind the bookshelf in the hallway. Where Maya would take her when the nightmares came. When the guilt got too heavy. When she needed to hide from the world.
Luna walked to the bookshelf and pressed the hidden latch. The shelf swung open with a soft click.
The room was dark. Small. Maybe six feet by six feet. Luna pulled the chain for the overhead light.
The bare bulb flickered on.
Luna stepped inside. This room always felt safe. Separate from the rest of the world. She and Maya had spent countless hours here. Talking. Crying. Healing.
Luna sank onto the cushions in the corner. Closed her eyes. She Tried to feel close to Maya one more time.
That's when she noticed it.
A metal lockbox on the floor. Partially hidden behind the cushions.
Luna had never seen it before.
Her heart started pounding. She pulled the box into her lap. It wasn't locked. The lid opened easily.
Inside were files. Documents. Photographs. All organized neatly with labels and dates.
Luna's hands trembled as she pulled out the first file.
A photograph of a man. Mid-forties. Business suit. She recognized him immediately.
Antonio Ruiz. She'd killed him two years ago. Victor said he was involved in a kidnapping ring. That he deserved to die.
But the file Maya had compiled told a different story.
Antonio Ruiz. Business owner. Refused to sell his pharmaceutical company to Victor Vega. Found dead in his office three weeks later. Ruled a suicide. Wife and two children left behind. The company was sold to Vega Enterprises at a fraction of its value.
Luna's breath caught in her throat.
She opened another file.
David Chen. Real estate developer. Outbid Victor Vega on a waterfront property deal. Found dead in his car two months later. Brake failure. Ruled an accident. The property went to Vega at auction.
Another file.
Marcus Santos. District attorney. Opened an investigation into Vega Enterprises. Found dead of an apparent heart attack one week later. Investigation closed. No evidence of foul play.
Luna went through file after file. Every single person she'd killed in the past five years.
And every single one was innocent.
They weren't criminals. They weren't kidnappers or traffickers or murderers.
They were business rivals. Investigators. People who got in Victor's way.
And Luna had killed them all.
Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold the papers. Bile rose in her throat.
She'd been killing innocent people for years.
Luna forced herself to keep going. There were more files at the bottom of the box.
These ones were marked with a different symbol. A compass rose with a sword through the center.
Luna opened one.
Marcus Sullivan. Age 52. Atrameni Curator. Retired police detective turned vigilante. Investigated human trafficking operations. Found dead in his home. Execution-style shooting.
Luna remembered this kill. Victor had said Marcus was part of a group that murdered her parents. That he deserved to die for what he'd done to her family.
But why would Maya have files on these people?
Luna opened another Atrameni file. And another. Five in total. All the people she'd killed. All marked with that strange symbol.
She didn't understand. What were the Atrameni? Why did Maya care about them?
Luna set those files aside. She Kept digging.
Near the bottom of the box, she found two manila folders. Both thick. Both are labeled with addresses.
Facility One: 1847 Desert Springs Road
Facility Two: 2847 Canyon Road
Luna opened the first folder.
Photographs. Surveillance shots of a large building surrounded by high fences. Guard posts. Security cameras.
Documents. Financial records showing monthly payments from Vega Enterprises to "Desert Springs Children's Home."
A list of names. Girls. Ages ranging from 3 to 17.
Luna's stomach turned.
This was one of Victor's facilities. Where he kept the girls before selling them.
She opened the second folder.
More photographs. Another building. Bigger than the first. More security.
Canyon Road Facility. Primary location. Baby factory and training center.
There were notes in Maya's handwriting.
"This is where they keep the youngest ones. Ages 0-18. Raised in the facility until old enough to sell. Primary focus: girls with desirable features. High-value merchandise."
Luna thought she might be sick.
More notes.
"The facility houses approximately 60 girls currently. New arrivals every month. Sales pipeline begins at age 16. Highest prices for virgins. Training includes 'preparation' for buyers."
Luna's vision blurred. These were children. Babies. Being raised like livestock. Like products.
And Victor owned it all.
She kept reading.
A list of names. Girls currently in the Canyon Road facility.
Luna's eyes scanned down the list. Most names meant nothing. Then she saw it.
Reyes, Aria. Age 3. Arrival date: Three years ago. Status: Healthy. High-value potential. Scheduled for pipeline at age 16.
Luna's heart stopped.
Reyes.
Aria Reyes.
Her hands shook as she pulled out the next document.
A birth certificate.
Name: Aria Sofia
Date of Birth: Three years ago
Mother: Listed as "Unknown"
Hospital: St. Mary's Medical Center
Luna knew that hospital. That's where she'd given birth.
Where Victor told her baby had died.
The room spun. Luna couldn't breathe.
There was more. A photograph paperclipped to the birth certificate.
A little girl. Maybe three years old. Dark hair. Big brown eyes. She was standing against a plain white wall. The kind of photo they take for identification.
The girl looked exactly like Luna had at that age.
Luna flipped the photo over. Maya's handwriting.
"Your daughter. Alive. Canyon Road facility. Room 14. Hurry."
The world stopped.
Her daughter.
Alive.