Chapter 6 - Inside the Lion's Den
The plan was set for Thursday night, two days before the scheduled multi-agency review. According to Maya and her brother, my father was scheduled to attend a late-night corporate dinner downtown—an event that usually kept him occupied until at least midnight. It was our only window of opportunity.
At 10:30 PM, the house was draped in heavy, unnatural silence.
I crept down the stairs, every fiber of my being tense, listening for the slightest creak of floorboards. My mother followed closely behind me, her steps feather-light. We reached the ground floor and moved toward the back of the house, where my father’s private home office was located.
The door was locked, as expected. But my mother reached into her pocket, pulled out a small, old-fashioned brass key that she had secretly fished off my father's key ring while he was showering earlier that evening, and slid it into the lock.
Click.
The door swung open, revealing the dark, mahogany-paneled room. The faint scent of expensive cologne and old paper hung in the air.
"Hurry," my mother whispered, closing the door softly behind us and flicking on a tiny penlight. "The safe is behind the painting of the harbor."
I rushed over to the heavy oil painting on the wall, lifting it away to reveal a heavy digital wall safe embedded in the brickwork. My mother stepped up, her fingers trembling violently as she punched in a six-digit code—our old home address combined with my birth year.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.
A soft green light flashed, and the heavy steel door popped open.
My breath caught in my throat. Inside the safe were thick manila folders labeled with financial statements, digital flash drives, and—most importantly—a ledger detailing cash bribes paid to local officials, alongside photographs and medical notes documenting years of abuse.
"I've got them," my mother whispered, pulling the folders out and shoving them into a canvas tote bag we had brought along. "Leo, grab the flash drives too."
I reached into the back of the safe, my fingers closing around a small plastic case containing several USB drives. But as I pulled my hand back, a sudden, blinding flash of light flooded the room.
The overhead office lights snapped on with a sharp click.
"Looking for something?"
My blood turned to absolute ice.
May you like
We froze, slowly turning around. Standing in the doorway was my father. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket; his shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing the thick forearms that had inflicted so much pain upon us. A sickening, triumphant smile spread across his face.
"Corporate dinner ended early," my father said smoothly, stepping into the room and blocking the only exit. "And lo and behold, my loving wife and dutiful son are playing burglar in my private office."
