The last crucifix
Evelyn locked the door with the key, turning the bolt very quickly before it could be disengaged from the blades against the wood. The puddle finally burst and dissolved as soon as it hit the ground, breathing heavily in the twilight of the path. Marcus ran to her, kneeling beside her and taking her cold hands.
“They’re gone, Mom. You did it,” he whispered, his eyes moist with gratitude.
“They haven’t completely left, Marcus,” she replied, looking at him with deep sadness on her face. “They’ve sown doubt, and those people never rest until they reap the reward.”
Evelyn got out of bed and went back to her room. The food was always there, temporarily hidden, but her cell phone lit up with a new text message. It didn’t contain an image, although it did have an attached photo. 📸
Marcus, his hands trembling, looked at the device and stared at the screen. The image showed the interior of the warehouse by the door, with his first seat and a brand-name digital clock on the first floor.
“They set a trap for us from the very beginning,” Marcus realized, knowing that the true horror was only just beginning. “The robbery wasn’t my idea… They wanted me to do it so they’d have the perfect excuse to eliminate all of us.”
Evelyn glanced at the wad of cash still lying on the bedspread, then fixed her gaze on the mansion keys. She understood that her family’s unique way of life hadn’t been fueled by alcohol, but rather that she had used the secret hidden in those keys to bring down the entire corrupt empire from its very foundations. The night was a young man, her mother and father were young, and the truth was played out under her father’s watchful eye.
