13/10/1910

  The fog had not lifted. It hung low and unyielding, curling like wet fingers around the hills, spilling over the tree line, swallowing the road that wound its way toward town. The farmhouse stood in the middle of it, its silhouette barely cutting through the gray, its edges blurred by the damp veil that refused to break. By now the sun should have broken through, burning away the choking fog, and peeling back the layers of moisture that drowned the land, but it hadn't. It wouldn't. The world remained suffocated, saturated with something too still, too heavy.

  Lea stood at the window, one gloved hand resting on the wooden frame, the other curled at her side. Her gaze was fixed on the street, watching, waiting, looking for a sign - any sign - that the morning would bring what it promised. The buyers were late. And that never happened.

  Behind her, Maddox sat at the kitchen table, his long fingers deftly rolling another cigarette, his movements slow, practiced, and unhurried. He hadn't asked about the basement again, hadn't pressed her about what had happened when she'd locked the door the night before. But he had watched her, his dark eyes following her movements with that quiet, knowing awareness she had come to expect from him. She ignored it. She had bigger worries.

  For the buyers were never late.

  The men in the dark coats, the ones who never spoke above a whisper, the ones who arrived before the first rays of light stretched across the hills to collect their goods, had not come. They had never missed a trade. They had never left empty-handed. And yet the sun had climbed higher - hidden, obscured, struggling to be seen - and the road remained empty.

  Maddox sighed, tucking the cigarette between his lips, his voice slipping lazily into the silence. "You're thinking out loud again."

  Lea didn't turn. "They should be here by now."

  Maddox struck a match, the brief flare of light casting flickering shadows across his face, the sharp scent of sulfur curling into the stale kitchen air. "Maybe they got lost."

  Lea's fingers tightened on the windowsill. "They don't get lost." Maddox exhaled the smoke, slow and easy. "Maybe they don't want them anymore."

  That made her turn. Sharply. Unamused. "That's not how it works."

  Maddox grinned, unconcerned, watching her over the rim of his coffee cup. "They're just kids, boss."

  Lea held his gaze. Maddox shrugged and took another slow drag on his cigarette. "What? That's what you always tell me."

  A muscle in Lea's jaw tickled, irritation running under her skin, slow and steady. "Don't repeat my words to me."

  Maddox grinned, slow and lazy, like he was enjoying himself. "I'm just following the story." Before Lea could snap something sharp, something final, the wind shifted.

  The fog moved. And then, at last, she saw them.

  Figures emerged from the mist, their outlines distorted, wavering like shapes carved out of water. Tall, silent men, their black coats buttoned at the neck, their broad-brimmed hats plunged low to hide their faces. But Lea didn't need to see their faces to know who they were.

  She inhaled slowly. Maddox followed her gaze, exhaling smoke through his nose. "Well. Took you long enough."

  Lea didn't answer. Because something was wrong. They weren't moving as they usually did. They always arrived with purpose, with quiet precision, their steps confident, their presence unquestioned. But now? Now they were dragging their feet through the thick, wet earth, their movements sluggish, reluctant, as if the fog itself were holding them back.

  Maddox pushed up from his chair, stretched, and rolled his shoulders. "You want me to..."

  Lea raised a hand, stopping him before he could finish. Her attention remained on the figures outside, as one of them - a tall, thin man with eyes that held nothing behind them - lifted his chin slightly, his lips parting in a whisper. Maddox frowned and tilted his head. "What the hell are they saying?"

  Lea exhaled slowly, a thread of unease winding through her chest. She stepped away from the window, her gloved fingers brushing the handle of the knife hidden beneath the folds of her cloak. And then, at last, the sound reached her.

  Deep. Faint. A whisper forced through the thick, damp air, struggling to be heard. Three words.

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  "She's here."

  Lea's blood ran cold. Maddox tensed beside her, the smirk finally slipping from his face. "This isn't normal."

  Lea turned toward the basement door, her grip on the knife tightening. And for the first time since the job began, she wondered: Did they steal the wrong girl?

  Lea didn't move immediately. Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her knife, fingers curling around the worn leather handle, but she didn't pull it. Not yet. The men outside did not move. They stood motionless, stiff, their long black coats hanging too still against the windless morning. There was something unnatural about them, something that made the fine hairs on Lea's arms tingle. Maddox exhaled through his nose, his voice calm. "This feels different."

  Lea glanced at him. "It is."

  They had done this countless times. The buyers always came. The deal was clean. The money changed hands, and the children disappeared into the night without so much as a whisper. But this wasn't it. The men weren't here for the deal. They were waiting for something else. Something invisible. Something that made the weight of Lea's knife feel heavier in her grip.

  Her stomach tightened. She needed answers. She turned on her heel and headed for the basement door, the wooden floorboards cold under her boots. Maddox followed. "Do you think they changed the terms?" he asked, his voice steady but with an edge of caution.

  Lea didn't answer. She already knew the truth. Felt it in the way the house seemed to hold its breath, in the way the damp air pressed against her skin. The deal had changed. And not in her favor.

  She unlocked the basement door and descended without hesitation. The air grew thicker with each step, heavy with the scent of straw, old sweat, and something else - something faint, something sickly sweet, like rotting fruit.

  Gemini was awake, sitting cross-legged in the straw, her hands resting loosely in her lap as if she had been waiting. Sandra was curled up beside her, eyes wide open, shoulders stiff, fingers twitching slightly in the straw. But she didn't move. Didn't speak.

  Gemini's eyes flicked up to Lea. And she smiled. Slowly. Knowing. As if she already knew everything that had happened upstairs. Lea's grip tightened around the knife as she stepped forward, the dim lantern light glinting off the steel. "The buyers are here."

  Gemini didn't flinch. Her smile didn't falter. "I know."

  Lea's stomach curled. She hated that. Hated the way Gemini always spoke as if she had already read the next page of the story. Lea crouched in front of her, the blade resting on her knee. Calculated. Close. Dangerous. Sandra let out a shaky breath. "What do they want?"

  Lea didn't look at her. She looked at Gemini. Because Gemini already knew. And when Gemini finally spoke, her voice was soft. Almost friendly. "They don't want us." Lea stopped.

  Sandra's breath caught. Maddox - who had been leaning against the wall, watching with quiet patience - straightened slightly. "Well. That's new."

  Lea exhaled through her nose. "You're lying." Gemini tilted her head. "Am I?"

  Lea's jaw tightened. The men outside. Their hesitation. The way their voices had come too late like something was holding them back.

  She wasn't lying. Lea's fingers curled around the knife. "I'll ask once," she murmured, her voice deep and dangerous. "What do they want?" Gemini's smile widened slightly. And then, slowly and deliberately, she leaned in. Until the knife almost touched her throat. Until Lea could feel the warmth of her breath against her skin.

  Then she whispered, "An exchange."

  Lea's pulse jumped. Gemini's blue eyes glinted in the dim light. "They don't want us," she murmured. "They want him." Maddox shifted next to her, and Lea knew without looking that he was grinning. "Aw, hell," he murmured, his voice lazy, light, amused. "You're here for me?"

  Lea's fingers didn't tremble. Didn't slip. Didn't tighten.

  The blade remained perfectly still against Gemini's throat, the sharp edge barely grazing her skin. A single false breath, a flicker of movement, and the girl would bleed. But Gemini didn't move. Didn't flinch. She just smiled, as if she had already won.

  Lea hated that. Her voice was soft, and controlled. "Explain." Gemini blinked, slowly and deliberately. "You don't want children this time."

  Lea didn't react. Didn't let herself. But Sandra shifted next to her, a small, sharp movement, her breath coming too fast now. She already knew. The knock was hard and loud. The whole house shook from the force of it. Sandra sucked in a breath. Gemini looked up. Maddox's casual demeanor shifted slightly, his shoulders stiffening. This wasn't a polite knock. That was a demand. Lea pulled the knife from Gemini's throat, quickly and precise, standing in one smooth motion.

  She turned to Maddox, her voice clipped. "Stay here." Maddox raised his eyebrows. "Is that an order?" Lea's gaze was sharp. Absolutely. "Yes." Maddox grinned. "Good luck with that." Another knock. But this time it wasn't from upstairs. Lea stopped. Sandra's breath caught. The sound had come from inside the walls.

  Gemini exhaled, deep and sweet. Then she whispered, "You shouldn't have brought us here." Lea's pulse jumped. But she didn't react. She wouldn't. Because she was Lea. And Lea never showed fear. She turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. "Lock the door behind me." Maddox grinned. "Aw, boss, you make it sound like you're not coming back." Lea didn't answer. Didn't look back.

  She reached the top of the stairs just as the third knock came. Even harder now. The walls groaned under the weight, dust drifted from the ceiling beams. The fog outside pressed against the windows, thicker, suffocating.

  She adjusted her gloves and opened the door.

  The men were closer now. She hadn't heard them move. Hadn't seen them step forward. But they stood just beyond the porch, their faces hidden beneath the brims of their hats, their black coats blending into the fog. The tallest lifted his chin, his mouth moving too slowly. When the words came, they were delayed. Distorted.

  "The deal has changed." Lea's fingers curled at her sides. "No, it hasn't." A silence. Then, quietly, "It has." They weren't talking about Sandra. They weren't talking about the girl they'd been promised. They were talking about Gemini. And for the first time in a long, long time, Lea wondered if she had made a terrible mistake.