Signing Away and the Silent Threat
I signed. The ink bled into the paper, each stroke a silent surrender.
Holden watched, impassive, the corners of his mouth barely twitching.
Sienna hovered, her fingers poised, then slipped a thin, folded note into my palm.
The paper felt warm, a stark contrast to the sterile chill of the room.
“Tomorrow, you’ll thank me,” the note read in cramped handwriting, a promise of a payoff that felt like a threat.
I stared at the words, the ink smearing slightly under my trembling fingers.
The door thudded shut behind them, the click echoing like a final nail.
Alone, the walls seemed to close in, the silence broken only by the soft whimper of my daughters.
A sudden gasp ripped through the quiet; Sienna’s voice, sharp and accusing, filled the hallway.
“You think you can blackmail us?” she shouted, her eyes blazing with a fury I’d never seen before.
Before I could breathe, a security guard burst through the door, his badge flashing, his hand already gripping my wrist.
He yanked the cuffs onto my wrists as the office lights flickered, casting the room into a strobe of shadows.
