Chapter 11 - Sisters in the Dark
Eleanor dropped into the freezing, swirling water, fighting the current to reach the central pillar. Clara was submerged to her lips, fighting for every breath.
"Hold on, Clara!" Eleanor shouted, pulling a pair of heavy wire cutters from the facility toolkit on her belt.
The rusted chains binding Clara were thick, but the links around the padlock were corroded by decades of salt exposure. Eleanor wedged the cutter blades between the links, bearing down with every ounce of strength remaining in her bruised muscles. The metal snapped with a sharp ping.
Clara collapsed forward, coughing violently as Eleanor dragged her out of the draining basin and onto the dry concrete floor.
The two women lay side by side on the cold, oil-stained concrete, chest heaving, breathing in the damp salt air.
"You came," Clara croaked, her voice shredded from screaming. "I thought... I thought you would hate me forever."
"You kept her alive, Clara," Eleanor whispered, rolling onto her side to look at her childhood friend. "You hid her from him. You gave her a life."
"I was a coward," Clara wept, tears mixing with the salt water on her face. "I should have told you seven years ago. But Marcus threatened to butcher my entire family. He had surveillance on you day and night. The only reason I brought her back was because the doctors told me last month... my cancer returned, Eleanor. I have six months left. I couldn't leave her alone in the world."
Eleanor grabbed Clara’s freezing hand, gripping it with fierce intensity. "You are not leaving her. And you are not alone anymore."
A horn honked twice from the pier outside.
Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. She had told Lily to stay silent. She helped Clara to her feet, supporting her friend's weight as they limped out through the warehouse exit into the gray dawn breaking over the harbor.
May you like
The sight that greeted them stopped Eleanor dead in her tracks.
Her gray sedan sat in the center of the pier. Sitting on the hood of the car, swinging his polished Italian shoes against the bumper, was Marcus Vance. He held Lily by the shoulder, his hand casually resting near the child’s neck. Surrounding the vehicle were six black SUVs, their headlights blazing into the morning mist.
