Chapter 2: The Wrong House
Chapter 2: The Wrong House
The woman finally stood.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Not resisting.
Just observing.
“You broke into the wrong house,” she said.
Morrison scoffed.
“Funny. This is the address on file.”
She nodded.
“Correct.”
A beat.
“This is my house.”
Silence.
“And yet,” she continued, stepping past the overturned furniture, “none of you checked who actually owns it.”
Bradley frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
She walked toward the window and pulled the curtain slightly aside.
Floodlights from outside revealed something none of them had fully noticed.
The driveway.
The cameras.
The reinforced security posts.
And the discreet emblem embedded in the gate outside.
A federal oversight seal.
Wilson’s expression changed.
Just slightly.
Not panic.
Recognition.
Morrison saw it too late.
“…No,” he muttered.
She turned back to them.
“You broke into a protected federal witness residence.”
The words landed heavier than any gunshot.
For the first time, the room shifted.
Not her.
Them.
Bradley stepped back.
“That’s not possible,” he said.
But his voice had already lost certainty.
Because he had seen the emblem now.
May you like
So had Wilson.
And Wilson wasn’t moving anymore.
