Painted Sins
he floor makes me jump. I've spent years learning how to disappear, and I'm not
ly, mentioning my art gallery, hinting that he's behind my recent troubles.
he hall, past the kitchen. Freedom is so close I can almost feel it. But I kno
en another, my bare feet quiet on the cold floor. I left my shoes under the bed in the r
hear it – a door opening behind
ia?" Lorenzo's voice
rossed. He's not wearing his jacket, and his white shirt clings to
kitchen," I lie, trying to
d. "The kitchen is the other way, car
but before I can, I hear a gun cock behind me. Lor
of you," a rough
l gear stands at the end of the hall, his gun pointed at us. I don't
ere?" Lorenzo asks, b
ooth. "Your security needs an u
chance to escape. I step
" I ask, letting f
to Lorenzo. "I'm here for you, sweetheart.
y stomach. How m
ng me back. "She's not involved," h
e's part of this too. Now, start w
hing for something I can use as a weapon. Lorenzo's
e two more armed men wait. My
es," the fir
new men steps forward, waving hi
the cold barrel of a gun presses against the back of my head. I close my eyes
tepping in front of us. "Let's start with
be confused. "I don't know what y
of his men, who steps forward and slaps
strokes. We know you're working with the feds. Tell us where the other painting
but the men grab him and force him
eds? None of this makes sense. I'm missing somethi
odes or the feds," I say, my voice shak
ds to the man holding Lorenzo. "Start with
Wait!" I cry. "I'll
d, stopping his part
He's always been the smart one. "The paintings," I star
n urges, his ey
sound believable. "Some are in pri
?" he
ocations. It's too risky. But I have a l
u're going to take us to this ledger. But first..."
nzo hard on the head with his gun. Lo
he men grab me, pul
tooth says, grinning. "He's just takin
part of something much bigger than art. And worst of all, I don't know how much of what they said is true.
aits in the driveway. They shove me into the backseat, and I know I need to escape, f
in the mirror, my heart pounding. I've spent years hiding from my pas
e my eyes and take a deep breath. I've escaped tou
the codes, or my own past. And Lorenzo... I push away the image of him
ens next, one thing is clear: my life as Emma Collins, a
prise is still waiting for