On a writing desk they found a journal. Mirelle’s handwriting trembled across the pages. “I am trapped in a place that echoes every sound. Ysella says no one is looking for me. She lies, but sometimes I fear the silence will swallow me.”
Jack shut the journal. “We find her now.”
Ysella had moved Mirelle into an unfinished high rise in the central district, convinced noise would hide everything. Yet Mirelle had found a chance. She scribbled a message on a paper napkin. “My name is Mirelle Halberg. Fourteenth floor.” She hid it in the trash. A custodian later discovered it and called a news tipline.
When Jack reached the location with a tactical unit, sirens in the distance echoed like warnings. Tala insisted on joining. “I was the first to see her. I want to see her safe.”
On the fourteenth floor they heard Ysella screaming, “If you come closer, I will end this.”
Jack’s voice shook. “Please. Let her live.”
“Why should she?” Ysella shrieked. “She had everything while I drowned.”
While Ysella ranted, operatives approached from the balcony above. Glass shattered. Rapid footsteps. Ysella was restrained before she could reach the window.