Luna stared at the photograph until her vision blurred.
Her daughter. Alive.
Her hands shook as she set the photo down carefully. Like it might shatter. Like it might disappear if she wasn't gentle.
There was more in the box.
Luna pulled out a small digital recorder. The kind Maya used for grocery lists and reminders. It was old. Scratched. The battery light blinked weakly.
Luna's finger hovered over the play button.
She pressed it.
Static crackled. Then voices.
Maya's voice came first. Angry. Shaking.
"You told her the baby died."
Luna's breath caught. She turned up the volume.
Victor's voice answered. Cold. Calm.
"The baby was a distraction. Luna is my best asset. I couldn't let her throw that away for some crying infant."
"She's not an asset, Victor. She's a person. A woman who just lost everything."
"She lost nothing. I gave her purpose. Direction. Without me, she'd be dead in that fire with her parents."
A pause. Luna could hear Maya breathing hard. Fighting for control.
"That child is three years old now. Healthy. Beautiful. She deserves to be with her mother."
"The child is exactly where she needs to be. Safe. Fed. Cared for. When she's old enough, she'll be profitable. Just like the others."
"Profitable? She's a baby, Victor! Luna's baby!"
"Luna doesn't need to know. And neither do you."
Victor's voice dropped. Dangerous.
"This conversation is over, Maya. I suggest you forget what you know. For your own safety."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I'm advising you. You've been useful to me over the years. You keep Luna stable. Functional. But if you become a problem, you'll be dealt with like any other problem."
"She deserves to know the truth."
"The truth will destroy her. And then I lose my best weapon. So no, Maya. She doesn't deserve the truth. She deserves to keep doing what she does best. And that's Killing for me."
"This girl has suffered enough, Victor. She lost her parents. Her childhood. Her baby. How much more are you going to take from her?"
"As much as I need to."
Static. Shuffling sounds. A door slamming.
Then Maya's voice again. Quieter now. Talking to herself.
"He's going to kill me. I know too much. I have to tell her. I have to—"
The recording ended.
Luna sat frozen. The recorder slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor.
Victor's voice echoed in her head.
"When she's old enough, she'll be profitable."
Her daughter. Her baby. A product. Merchandise.
Luna's vision went red. Rage boiled in her chest. Hot and violent and all-consuming.
She wanted to kill him. She wanted to watch him bleed. Wanted to make him suffer the way he'd made her suffer for fifteen years.
But first, she needed to finish going through the box.
Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely function. She pulled out more documents. More surveillance photos. More lists of names and ages and sale prices.
Then she found the envelope.
It was sealed. Her name written on the front in Maya's careful handwriting.
Luna
Luna tore it open. A letter. Three pages. Handwritten.
My dearest Luna,
If you're reading this, it means Victor finally did what I knew he would do. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you in person. I tried so many times. But he always knew. Always interrupted. Always watched.
I don't have much time, so I'll be direct.
Your daughter is alive. She's in the Canyon Road facility. Room 14. Her name in their system is Aria, but you can give her whatever name you choose. She's three years old now. Healthy. Beautiful. She has your eyes.
Victor lied to you. He's been lying to you since the night he pulled you from that fire. But there are bigger lies, Luna. Things I've been trying to uncover for months.
There's an organization called the Atrameni. I don't know much about them yet, but I know they're connected to your past somehow.
I've been digging. Searching. Trying to find the truth about who you really are. But I ran out of time. Victor found out what I knew about your daughter, and I know he won't let me live much longer.
I'm sorry I couldn't give you all the answers. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you the way you deserved to be protected.
But I need you to know something, baby girl. I love you. I have loved you since the moment Victor brought you into my life. Broken and scared and so incredibly brave.
You are not his weapon. You are not his tool. You are a person. A mother. A survivor.
Please, Luna. Find your daughter. Get her out of that place. And then run. Run as far and as fast as you can. Leave Victor behind. Leave this life behind.
You deserve more than this. You deserve peace. Love. A chance to be the mother your daughter needs.
I love you always,
Maya