The Shadows that speak

Chapter 20 – The Shadows That Speak

The room was deathly silent. The air stood still as Nyra's words echoed like thunder in the aftermath of a storm.

"She's the reason West died."

Amara blinked, her mouth slightly open, as if the words had struck her physically. Elias stepped between the two women, eyes narrowing with urgency.

"What are you talking about, Nyra?" he asked. "You better be damn sure."

Nyra dropped a flash drive onto the table. "That has everything. I risked my life to get this. Wire transfers. Audio files. Myra was involved with Daedalus for years—back when West started to pull away."

Amara stared at the flash drive like it held the final key to her aunt's soul.

"No," she murmured, shaking her head slowly. "Myra raised me. She protected me."

"She protected the image of herself," Nyra snapped, still out of breath. "West found out. She wanted to expose her. And that's why she had to die."

Amara sank onto the couch, her hands trembling.

Elias walked over to her slowly. "You remember the message, don't you?"

She nodded. "Tell him. Don't trust anyone."

Nyra looked between them. "Who did she mean?"

Amara raised her eyes—dark with realization.

"She meant Elias," she said quietly. "Tell him. But the warning wasn't about Elias. It was about everyone else."

---

Elsewhere, across the city

Myra Solarin walked into a high-rise meeting room, dressed immaculately in ivory, her presence commanding.

"You're late," said a man sitting at the head of the table—Silas Creed.

"I had matters to handle," she replied, unbothered. "The prodigal niece is digging. So is your little tech rat."

"You said you had it under control."

"I do," she replied coldly. "But if they find the ledger, we both burn."

Silas leaned forward. "You better hope they don't."

---

Back at the villa

Elias plugged the flash drive in. A folder popped up, labeled SIREN. Inside were videos, emails, bank statements—enough to topple a government.

But one file was different. A short video. West. Tired. Eyes red. Speaking into the camera.

"If you're watching this," she said, "it means I didn't make it. Myra and I… we started this together. But she changed. Greed changes people. And now, I fear I've become a liability. Amara, I love you. Protect Elias. He'll know what to do."

Amara's breath hitched.

Elias closed his eyes. "We can't go back after this. We expose this, Myra and Silas won't just run. They'll destroy everything."

Nyra stepped forward. "Then let's be the storm they never saw coming."

Amara stood, her voice steady despite the crack in her heart. "Let's finish what West started."

They didn't sleep that night.

The walls of Elias's villa seemed to pulse with tension as documents printed endlessly from the machines Nyra had set up in the study. Elias stood by the window, eyes fixed on the darkness outside, while Amara sat curled on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through every file West had left behind. Her features were sharp, focused—determined.

"This…" Amara whispered. "This ledger—it doesn't just name Myra and Silas. There are judges… senators. People whose faces I've seen on TV my entire life."

Elias turned to her. "This is bigger than just your aunt. This is Daedalus at its core."

"And that's why they're trying to wipe it clean," Nyra added, her voice tired but steady. "We have to move now before they cover their tracks. Once this is out, there's no going back."

Amara looked up at Elias, a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"I do," he said without hesitation. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded. "With everything."

Nyra watched them from across the room. Her jaw tightened.

That bond. The way they looked at each other—it wasn't just trust. It was something deeper. Something she wasn't sure she could fight, even if she wanted to. And she did.

Still, she cleared her throat. "We need someone on the inside. Someone to leak this, but not through the usual press. Daedalus controls most major outlets."

Elias nodded. "There's someone. Jonathan Creed."

"The journalist?" Amara asked.

"He's not just a journalist," Elias replied. "He's Silas's brother. The estranged one. The one who refused to be bought."

"Family," Nyra muttered. "That'll be tricky."

"All the more reason he'll want justice," Elias said. "He's been waiting for a chance like this."

Two days later – London

Jonathan Creed didn't flinch when Elias walked into the back room of the dim bookstore. He set his worn-out cup of tea down and leaned back, his expression unreadable.

"Well," he said coolly. "Didn't expect you to come back after robbing me at gunpoint."

Elias didn't smile. "We didn't come for an apology."

Amara placed a folder on the table—thicker, darker, heavier than the one they had taken. "We know you had pieces of the story. But now, we have the whole puzzle."

Jonathan stared at the folder. Then at Amara. Then Elias.

"I should turn you in," he said.

"You won't," Elias replied. "Because you care more about the truth than your ego. And you've been waiting to take your brother down for years."

Jonathan's jaw tightened. "Silas has burned everything he touches. Family. Friends. My reputation."

"Then help us bury him," Amara said softly.

He opened the folder and read through the documents. Saw West Solarin's final message—her voice trembling as she said: "Tell him. Don't trust anyone."

Silence followed.

Jonathan looked up, something shifting in his eyes. "You said 'bury him.'"

Elias nodded. "With every headline. Every page."

Jonathan stood, his old defiance returning. "Then let's make history."

Back in America – Myra's Estate

Myra slammed her glass onto the floor, shattering it across the marble.

"Find them," she hissed. "Find Elias. Find Amara. And if you have to—burn everything in your path."

Silas, calm as ever, lit a cigar. "We warned them not to dig."

"They didn't just dig," Myra growled. "They unearthed the whole graveyard."

---

The final scene – Nightfall

Amara stood on the balcony, the wind brushing through her hair. Elias came up behind her, his presence grounding.

"I never imagined things would lead here," she whispered.

"Neither did I."

"I'm scared, Elias."

"So am I," he said, gently taking her hand. "But if we fall, we fall together."

She looked up at him, and for the first time, kissed him. Slow. Intentional. Not to escape fear—but to face it.

A moment of light before the storm.

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