Hope Survives Even After Maps Are Burned by Niro Mason 159

Chapter 159 

-Hailey- 

My mom’s face was burned into the back of my eyelids. 

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Anatoly was watching me intently. I could feel his eyes on me. His unspoken threat was still hanging in the air between us 

Send a message to Logan. 

Make the right choice. 

And the choice was hardly a choice. Lead Logan into a trap, or watch my mother die on a live feed. 

My hands were trembling in my lap, so I clenched them into fists. Dug my nails into my palms. 

I couldn’t do either. I wouldn’t. 

My mind raced through my limited options. I had to tell him something. A warning. A clue. Something Anatoly would see as compliance, but Logan would see as a warning. 

But how? Anatoly was a human lie detector. He’d see through anything too obvious. 

Hopelessness was creeping in. My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. 

Then a memory surfaced. Abby hugging me goodbye on the day I left home to move to Riverstone with Matt. More specifically, the words she whispered in my ear before letting me go. 

Abby. 

Of course. Abby was the key. I could send her a coded message through Logan. Something only she could decipher. To let her know Mom was in trouble, and to tell her what I knew about where I’d been taken. 

A plan started to form. It was fragile and desperate, but it was all I had. 

reached for the phone. My fingers were cold and stiff. I avoided looking at Anatoly, focusing instead on the blank wrew. ! powered it on and navigated to the messaging app. 

My heart was skipping beats now. I had to make this look like a surrender. A message from a broken gut to the man the betrayed. 

I started to type. 

I deleted it 

I typed again 

Deleted it 

By the time I was done, Anatuly was on his second cigarette sull hastot kokeil ai haos 

I reread the message about twelve times to make sure Logan and Ably will both moderuand what i was trying to wil 

them 

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Logan, it’s Hailey I’m so sorry 

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Chapter 159 

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I’m okay, but he wants you to come save me. 

Please give Abby a message for me: nice feet, are they new? And tell her to send Mom 

a large pizza. Extra bacon. 

I love you. 

I’m sorry. 

This shit is NOT bananas. There are no bananas here. * 

All I could do was hope. That Anatoly wouldn’t see through it, and that they would understand it. 

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I read it over again. My stomach churned. To me, it screamed volumes. To anyone else, hopefully, it was the sad disjointed musings of a traumatized girl. 

Would Abby even remember? It had been over a decade since our school field trip to Mammoth Cave, when I’d tripped on my way down the endless underground staircase and she’d laughed at me and said “nice feet, are they new?” 

Would she remember what she said to me a few years ago when I left with Matt? 

Or would she just think I’d lost my mind? 

And would Logan understand the bananas reference? I didn’t want him to come save me. It would only get him killed. 

I knew he was going to charge in anyway, of course, and my ‘underground‘ message to my sister would be a breadcrumb to my location. 

I guess this was my feeble attempt at warning him of the danger. 

I picked up the phone again, my thumb hovering over the recipient field. And then it hit me. 

I didn’t know Logan’s number. 

I knew the area code. I knew it started with a 7. But the rest… It was just a contact in my phone. I’d never needed to memorize it. What kind of partner was I? 

The kind who gets herself kidnapped and can’t even call for help because she doesn’t know the damn number. 

A hysterical laugh bubbled in my chest and I choked it back, turning it into a cough. 

There was only one number I knew by heart. My own. 

It was a gamble. A huge one. But I knew Logan had my phone. Thanks to Anatoly’s recording. Ed watched Lestger boss it tor him at the railyard. If it was still powered on, the message would get to him 

And he was smart. He’d know a message sent to my phone from an unknown number was theant fut him. He had to 

With a final, silent prayer, I typed in my own number. Each digit felt like a step closer to the stay at a clut. I shouble–choked it Triple–checked it. 

My thumb found the ‘send‘ icon, and I hesitated Hus was it No take back. No restites. 

I pressed it. 

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Chapter 159 

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With a heavy sigh, I set the phone back on the table and slid it toward Anatoly, knowing I might’ve just dug my own grave. 

A fresh wave of panic washed over me then. It was too vague. It was insane. Logan would read that and think I’d finally cracked under the pressure. He’d have no reason to show it to Abby. 

He would just see a goodbye note from the woman who’d broken his trust. 

If I get out of this, I promised myself… if he even still wants me after this, I’m having Stella tattoo his fucking number on my thigh. Right next to ‘don’t be a dumbass.’ 

The image was so absurd, so *us*, that it almost brought real tears to my eyes this time. 

I kept my head down, waiting for Anatoly to pick up the phone and read my clever, stupid, potentially catastrophic message. 

Anatoly didn’t even glance at the screen, though. He picked up the phone and slid it back into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. 

Then he pulled out his own personal cell, tapped the screen, and put it to his ear. 

He spoke in low, rapid Russian for maybe thirty seconds. I caught the word “Montana.” My blood ran cold. He ended the 

call. 

He pocketed his phone and picked up the remote control. 

With a press of a button, the projector screen whirred down again. 

The projector light flickered on, and the familiar image of my aunt’s house filled the screen. 

The timestamp glowed: 8:42 AM. The red dot blinked steadily. 

But the image wasn’t static now. It was moving. It wobbled, like someone was walking with it. Or wearing it. The camera was pointed at the ground, and then it lifted, focusing on the front door of the house. 

“No,” I whispered. 

The camera moved closer. I could see the texture of the paint on the door, the brass of the knocker. 

The person holding the camera raised a hand and knocked three times, 

The sound echoed in the silent conference room. I felt each knock in my teeth. 

“No,” I said again, louder this time, voice trembling. I tore my eyes from the screen and looked at Anatoly 

He wasn’t watching the horror movie playing out on the screen. He was watching me. 

The door opened a few inches. My aunt’s wary face appeared in the crack. I saw her eyes scan the person on the porch, 

The audio was crisp. A man’s voice, speaking in a friendly, apologetic American accent. “Ma’am? I am so sorry to bathe you My car died just up the road, and my cell’s dead Is there any chance I could use your phone to call a tow truck be immensely grateful” 

My aunt’s face softened a little. She was too kind for her own good she glanced past him, theit nodded. “Of course, Was right here. I’ll bring you the cordless” 

She started to close the door. As it swung shut, a black boot shot out and januned itself in the opening. 

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Chapter 19 

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THE COMPLETED Sont Surmant vinbearly. The fose few inward. The image lurched as the man stepped into the house. I sa ng mom attingin hanger on the couch. Saw the horrified look on her face. 

kruf hins I can share fonet haut come up from below the frame, holding a pistol fired with a silencer. 

And get out of the & so that I couldn’t choke hack. A noise of pure, undiluted terror. 

Wag I caned a burly, sanding and shoving my chair backwards. “Why are you punishing me? I did what you asked! I didn’t so mything wrong on didn’t even read the message I sent him!” 

Me Snally innlend wery from me mathing out his cigarete in a glass ashtray. He stood and straightened his suit jacket with a 

Ave 

To does not matter what you said to him he wid. His voice was flat and emotionless. Thank you. Hailey. You’ve done well. That is all for my 

The door to for conference room opened and two new guards extered. Their faces were just as blank as the others, their monemeare just as controlled 

They each grabbed one of my arms and hauled me toward the door. My legs gave out, but they held me up. My boots begged on the floor as fary pulled me from the room 

I wwwthing new Vimine, bearing gangs that made my chest burn 

I didn’t scar them. There was no point. The fight was gone. Everything was gone. 

They hall carnet hall bannyph me back down the hallway. They reached my door, tapped in the code, and shoved me Whedonised forward and collapsed onto the floor as the door hined shut behind me and the lock thunked into place. 

feared into a ball and whhed. I cried for my aunt, for my mother, for Shawn, for the man whose blood was still on the floor vedere. Scried for Loggen, for the trust I’d shattered. 

You woody, Soned became I forally, truly understood. 

There was surfuja civice. There was no winning Anatoly’s twisted fucking game. 

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