THE FORGED TICKET IN THE NIGHT

Dominic didn't waste a single second.

“Marcus, lock this cabin down,” Dominic barked, checking the magazine of his sidearm. “Nobody gets in or out. I don't care if the Pope himself knocks on that door, you shoot first.”

“I’m coming with you,” Anna said, standing up from Thomas’s bedside.

“No, you’re not,” Dominic countered. “It’s a war zone out there.”

“It’s my apartment, Dominic!” Anna argued, her voice finding a sudden, fierce strength she didn't know she possessed. “It’s a labyrinth above that hardware store. I know the fire escapes. I know the blind spots. If Vincent’s men get there first, you will never find that bear in the dark.”

Dominic looked at her. He saw the stubborn set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes. It was the exact same look their mother used to give when she had made up her mind.

He nodded once. “Stay right behind me.”

The drive back into Chicago was a blur of speed and adrenaline. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a bruised purple light over the city skyline.

They parked three blocks away from the hardware store, slipping through the alleyways on foot.

As they approached the rusted fire escape that led to Anna’s second-floor window, Dominic held up a fist. They stopped in the shadows.

The back door to the hardware store had been kicked open. Splinters of wood littered the alley.

“They beat us here,” Dominic whispered.

“The bear is in the floorboard under my bed,” Anna whispered back, her heart hammering. “If they don't know exactly what they’re looking for, they might just tear the place apart looking for documents.”

Dominic drew his gun. “Up the stairs. Quiet.”

They crept up the rusted iron fire escape. The window to Anna’s kitchen was shattered.

Dominic slipped inside first, sweeping the room. He motioned for Anna to follow.

The apartment had been entirely destroyed. The cheap furniture was overturned, the mattress slashed open, the cabinets emptied onto the linoleum floor.

Anna felt sick to her stomach. This tiny, humble place had been her safe haven her entire life. Now, it was violated.

She crept toward her small bedroom, keeping low. Dominic was right beside her, gun raised.

The bedroom was empty. The intruders had already searched it and moved on.

Anna dropped to her knees beside the slashed mattress. She pried up the loose floorboard she had used as a hiding spot since she was a teenager.

She reached inside.

Her fingers brushed against soft, worn fabric.

She pulled it out. It was a small, tattered brown teddy bear.

She quickly felt along the seam of the back. A small, hard lump was still securely stitched inside the stuffing.

“I have it,” she breathed, looking up at Dominic.

“Good,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

But as they turned to leave the bedroom, Anna stopped dead.

Pinned to the wall above her destroyed dresser with a large hunting knife was a piece of paper.

Dominic stepped closer, his flashlight illuminating the page.

It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on construction paper. It showed a little girl with a big smile, holding hands with a silver-haired man. At the top, written in a child’s sloppy handwriting, were the words: To Uncle Vincent.

Anna gasped, stepping backward.

“I drew that,” she whispered, her voice trembling with horror. “I drew that for him when I was five years old. Long before my mother died.”

Dominic stared at the drawing. “He didn't just come here to search for evidence.”

“He left a message,” Anna realized, the terror washing over her in a freezing wave. “He’s telling us he knew who I was. He’s known where I’ve been this whole time.”

Suddenly, the floorboards in the hallway creaked.

Dominic spun around, shoving Anna behind him.

A large man stepped into the doorway of the bedroom, holding a suppressed automatic weapon. It was Vincent’s top enforcer, a brutal man named Silas.

Silas smiled, a gold tooth catching the dim morning light.

“Vincent sends his regards, boss,” Silas sneered.

Before Silas could pull the trigger, Dominic fired twice.

The shots were deafening in the small room. Silas staggered backward, hitting the doorframe, but he didn't go down. He was wearing Kevlar.

Silas raised his weapon, spraying the room with suppressed gunfire.

Dominic tackled Anna to the floor, rolling them behind the heavy oak dresser just as bullets shredded the drywall above their heads.

“We’re trapped!” Anna screamed over the noise.

Dominic looked at the small bathroom door three feet away. “When I cover you, crawl to the bathroom. Get out through the vent to the roof.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“You have the key, Anna!” Dominic yelled, his eyes blazing. “You are the only one who can end this. Go!”

Dominic stood up, roaring as he laid down a barrage of cover fire.

Anna crawled desperately on her stomach, clutching the bear to her chest, and threw herself into the tiny bathroom, kicking the door shut behind her.

She scrambled onto the edge of the sink, kicking out the rusted metal grate of the exhaust vent. She squeezed her shoulders through, pulling herself up onto the flat tar roof of the building just as the gunfire below suddenly stopped.

A terrifying, heavy silence fell over the apartment.

“Dominic!” she screamed down the vent.

No answer.