Expensive.
A perfect Trojan horse.
Not a gift. A bomb, ticking away while I admired its craftsmanship, showed it off to friends, and dreamed about traveling.
Kolya approaches the globe cautiously, circling like a soldier assessing a potential threat. His scarred hand runs over the lacquered surface, fingers tracing coastlines and oceans in search of something beyond the visible.
He crouches, pulling out his phone to illuminate the details of the globe’s construction. His face is a mask of concentration, all emotion locked away behind those dark eyes.
My breath catches, suspended between inhalation and release, as Kolya shifts the flashlight to focus on a specific point on the globe’s surface. He stills, his finger hovering over a tiny, almost imperceptible speck near the Bahamas, the spot no bigger than a pinprick.
I squat beside him. “Where’s that?”
He taps his phone screen until a map appears. His thumb and forefinger zoom in on a specific location that he compares to the spot on the globe, and a chill runs through me at the intensity in his expression.
“It’s Isla de Huesos. The island you were on.”
My legs buckle, and I collapse on the floor beside the globe. The world tilts.
I never searched for the island’s location. Seeing how small it is, how insignificant on the planet… How could such a miniature fleck of paradise ruin so many lives? For so many years?
Kolya examines the heavy wooden base that holds the world aloft. His motions become even more careful, more precise.
“Don’t move.” His sharp command freezes me in place as he shines light at a thin, almost invisible metallic line running from the top of the globe to the South Pole, where the stand connects.
Kolya’s expression hardens. “It’s wired.”
“A bomb? What the fuck?” The words burst from me, a whispered shout that’s too loud in the tense silence.
Kolya’s eyes sparkle as they connect with mine. “Second time.”
I frown. “What?”
“Pretty certain this is only the second or third time I’ve heard you curse.” The corner of his mouth twitches, but he’s alreadyshifting back to the matter at hand. “Not a bomb. Alarm. If we open this, whoever put this here will know.”
The implications sink in slowly, then all at once. The globe wasn’t just a hiding place. It was a trap. A monitor. A way to know exactly when someone found the diamonds. Which I might have done on my own if I’d have put two and two together and studied the damn island in the first place.
Or one of my kids. Whoever left me the globe brought it to the classroom. Any of the students could’ve triggered the stupid thing. An anonymous gift? Of this caliber? How stupid was I?
No more.
“Someone sent this to me.” My volume rises despite my effort to keep it down. “Sent this to destroy my life. They sent a trap into a classroom filled with young children.”
Why?
Rage, both foreign and familiar, builds beneath my ribs. It’s the same fury that consumed me in the safe house. The fury that began on the island all those years ago as my world collapsed into chaos and violence and helplessness.
But I’m no longer that child hiding under a porch, waiting for salvation or death.
I’m a woman who survived kidnappers, snipers, abduction, torture, and a warehouse fire. I stared the darkness down and walked away.
I approach the fireplace with trembling hands. The anger is almost more than I can bear.
I lift the iron poker. The heavy weight satisfies me in a way I’ve never appreciated before.
Kolya straightens, tension radiating from every line of his body. “Chloe. What are you doing?”
I clutch the poker tighter. Whatever he reads in my expression prevents him from speaking another word. The old Chloe would’ve been horrified by the thought of destroying thispriceless gift. The old Chloe would’ve worried about the mess, the noise, the consequences.
