Chapter 2
The afternoon sun was warm, filtering through the large bay windows of Marcus’s new, expanded garage.
It had been three years since the nightmare ended.
Three years since the trial, the fire, and the tears.
Now, the sounds of pneumatic drills and cheerful banter filled the air.
Marcus wiped grease from his forehead, smiling as his curly-haired boy raced a toy truck across the concrete floor.
Life was finally quiet.
Exactly how he wanted it.
But peace is often just a fragile glass, waiting to shatter.
Across town, the heavy steel gates of the state penitentiary groaned open.
A man stepped out into the blinding sunlight.
He wore a cheap grey suit that hung loosely on his diminished frame.
It was Daniel Briggs.
Sarah’s former partner.
The man who had burned down Marcus’s original livelihood out of pure, venomous jealousy.
Due to prison overcrowding and a controversial plea deal, Daniel was out on early parole.
He stood on the sidewalk, pulling a crumpled photograph from his pocket.
It was a newspaper clipping of Marcus and Sarah from the day they opened the new garage.
Daniel didn’t look angry anymore.
He looked empty.
And empty men are the most dangerous.
Back at the house, Sarah was rocking their newborn daughter to sleep.
The baby had Marcus’s eyes.
Deep, kind, and observant.
The phone on the kitchen counter buzzed.
Sarah ignored it at first, not wanting to wake the baby.
But it buzzed again.
And again.
And again.
Finally, she laid the baby in her crib and picked up the device.
It was an unknown number.
"Hello?" she whispered.
Silence.
"Hello? Who is this?"
Only the sound of heavy, ragged breathing echoed through the speaker.
Then, a click.
A cold chill ran down Sarah’s spine.
Her instincts—the same instincts that made her a brilliant officer before her genetic heart condition forced her off the streets—screamed that something was wrong.
That evening, Marcus came home late.
He looked exhausted but happy.
However, as they sat down for dinner, he didn't eat.
He just stared at his plate.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, her heart beating a little faster.
Marcus hesitated.
"A man came to the shop today. A corporate suit. He offered to buy the land."
"And?"
"I said no. We built that place from the ashes. It's ours."
Marcus looked up, his eyes troubled.
"But he didn't just leave, Sarah. He smiled. He said some things are built on ashes, and some things are just waiting to burn again."
Sarah froze.
Her mind raced to the heavy breathing on the phone.
"Marcus... Daniel was released today."
The room fell into a terrifying silence.
The next morning, Marcus arrived at the garage early.
The sun hadn't even risen yet.
As he unlocked the front door, he noticed something strange.
The security camera above the entrance was smashed.
Dangling by a single wire.
Panic surged through his veins.
He pushed the heavy door open, flipping on the lights.
His breath hitched.
Inside, scattered across the pristine floor, were dozens of expensive, stolen car parts.
Engines with filed-off serial numbers.
Stripped doors.
Illegal modifications.
None of it belonged to him.
Before he could even pull out his phone to call the police, the wail of sirens shattered the morning silence.
Red and blue lights flooded the windows.
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History was repeating itself.
Only this time, the trap was set perfectly.
