Two Tickets to Chaos

Maya had barely gotten her coat on when Amanda's words hit her like a cold slap.

"We need to move. Now."

Ryan shot her a suspicious look, still standing in the doorway, holding the journal in one hand like it might spontaneously combust at any second. "Who are they?"

Amanda's gaze darted over her shoulder as if checking for unseen eyes, her lips pressed into a tight line. "The people who think Maya's inheritance belongs to them," she said with an air of finality. "I don't have time to explain right now. Just trust me."

"Trust you?" Ryan's voice was laced with disbelief. He shot Maya a questioning look, but she just shrugged.

"I don't know what else to do," Maya said, the urgency in Amanda's tone seeping into her own words. She glanced at the journal again. It was the only piece of the puzzle that might make sense of what had happened to her father—and why everyone was coming for it now.

"Fine. Let's go," Ryan said, his voice quiet but resolute. He turned and motioned for Maya to follow him.

"Great. Just great," Amanda muttered, looking around like someone might pop out of the shadows at any moment. "And just why do you still have a useless old sedan?"

Ryan shot her a glare. "I like my car. And it's not like we can just borrow one of your SUVs."

Maya chuckled nervously, despite herself. "We're not exactly on a mission for a joyride, you know."

Ryan's expression softened, just for a second, before his usual seriousness returned. "We'll figure it out. Just stay close."

The tension in the air could have been sliced with a knife as they hustled down the building's staircase, every footstep echoing ominously in the otherwise quiet hallway. As they reached the parking lot, Maya's heart started racing again, the weight of everything pressing down on her. She had no idea who was after her or why her father's journal seemed to be at the center of it all. But something told her that whoever "they" were, things were about to get a whole lot messier.

Ryan pulled open the passenger side door of his car, motioning for Maya to get in.

"Shotgun," Amanda said with a grin, practically throwing herself into the backseat. "You drive. I'll give directions."

Ryan glared at her through the rearview mirror as he started the engine, clearly not pleased with being told what to do. "I'm not going to take directions from you, Amanda."

"You can't even take directions from yourself," she shot back. "Don't make me start listing all the times you've gotten lost—"

"Let's not." Maya cut in, trying to stop the bickering before it got worse. She could already feel the headache forming. "We have bigger problems."

"Right," Amanda said, all business again, her tone shifting abruptly. "So we need to head to my place. It's the only safe place we can go where no one will look for us. You can hide out for a while and figure out your next move."

Maya exchanged a glance with Ryan, who didn't seem convinced. "And how do we know we can trust you?"

Amanda gave a humorless laugh. "You don't, but you don't have a choice. Trust me or trust the people coming for you—your father's network doesn't exactly take 'no' for an answer."

Ryan's grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he didn't argue. Maya had the sense he wanted to, but something about Amanda's cold, no-nonsense attitude kept him in check.

The drive was silent, save for the occasional sharp direction from Amanda as they navigated through the city. The tension in the car was palpable, and Maya couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed, though every time she glanced into the rearview mirror, the streets behind them appeared empty.

Amanda was right, though: something about tonight felt wrong.

They finally arrived at Amanda's place, a sleek, modern building in the heart of the city that practically screamed "money." It was the kind of place Maya had never felt comfortable in, no matter how many times she visited. Too polished. Too perfect.

Amanda led them up to the penthouse, unlocking the door with a swipe of her card, and ushered them in. "Get comfortable," she said, tossing her keys onto the marble countertop. "This will be our safe house for the next few hours."

Ryan didn't sit down immediately. He kept his eyes on the door, the windows—looking for any sign of movement.

"Make yourself at home," Amanda muttered, flopping onto the couch. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out like she hadn't a care in the world.

Maya, on the other hand, stood awkwardly in the center of the room, clutching the journal like it might evaporate if she didn't hold onto it. She couldn't stop thinking about the phone call, the cryptic words. The journal was important. It was more than just a link to her father's past—it was the key to everything.

"Are you going to talk to me, or just stare at the wall?" Amanda's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Maya looked up, blinking. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me what's on your mind, then. You look like you've just swallowed a lemon." Amanda raised an eyebrow.

Maya hesitated, glancing at Ryan, who was now pacing in the corner of the room. "I just don't understand any of this. My dad was… was he involved in something illegal? What does this journal even mean?"

Amanda sat up, her expression unreadable for a moment before she sighed. "Your father wasn't a saint, Maya. He was a businessman, and like all businessmen, he had connections. Some of them were… less than legal. But the network he built? That's where the real power lies. And you—whether you want it or not—are a part of it."

Maya felt a knot form in her stomach. "So I've been playing a part in something I didn't even know about?"

"Exactly," Amanda said with a strange mixture of sympathy and bitterness. "And now you've got the journal, and they'll stop at nothing to get it."

Just then, the sound of tires screeching outside caught Maya's attention, and Ryan's head snapped toward the window.

Maya's heart dropped. Something wasn't right.

"We're not alone," Ryan said, his voice low.

Maya froze, her pulse quickening as she followed Ryan's gaze toward the street below.

"Get down," Amanda hissed. "They're here."