BLOOD DEBT

At 6:00am,the electricity went out.

Lex Aster stared at the iron in his hand.

The shirt beneath it was only half-pressed.

He closed his eyes.

"Of course."

From the other room came a quiet laugh.

"You've been fighting that iron for ten minutes."

Lex turned.

Maya stood in the doorway, already dressed in a simple black dress. At nineteen, she had learned how to make sadness look smaller than it really was.

"Go back to bed," Lex said.

"We're supposed to leave in an hour."

"I know."

"You haven't slept."

"Neither have you."

Maya smiled faintly.

"I wasn't the one pretending to iron with a dead iron."

Lex looked down.

She was right.

He unplugged the iron and placed it on the table.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Nina appeared behind Maya.

Their youngest sister was thirteen.

She held a pair of black shoes against her chest.

"Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"Are these yours?"

He looked at the shoes.

They were his father's.

For a moment, Lex couldn't breathe.

"No."

Nina lowered them.

"They fit me."

Lex swallowed.

"Keep them."

"But they're Dad's."

"I know."

She looked at him.

"Are you going to wear something else?"

Lex glanced at his faded black shirt hanging from the back of the chair.

The collar was worn.

One sleeve had begun to loosen at the seam.

"It's fine."

Maya knew what he meant.

They couldn't afford another shirt.

They couldn't afford much of anything.

The funeral had already consumed the little money they had left.

The hospital bills were still sitting on the table.

The landlord had called twice yesterday.

And Lex's phone contained three unanswered messages from employers who had promised to "get back to him."

They never did.

At twenty-two, Lex had become very good at hearing the word no without anyone actually saying it.

Maya walked over and fixed the collar of his shirt.

"You'll be okay."

Lex almost laughed.

"That's what Dad used to say."

Her fingers stopped.

For a moment, the room became painfully quiet.

Their father had been dead for four days.

Four days.

Yet Lex still expected to hear his key in the front door.

Still expected his deep voice from the kitchen.

Still expected him to complain about the electricity bill.

Instead, there was only silence.

Lex looked at the clock.

"We need to go."

Maya nodded.

Nina slipped her father's shoes onto her feet.

They were too big.

She didn't complain.

Lex watched her take three careful steps across the room.

Something inside him tightened.

He had promised his father one thing before the hospital doors closed.

"I'll take care of them."

He hadn't known what those words would cost.

Now he did.

The cemetery was already crowded when they arrived.

Grey clouds hung low over Blackridge City, threatening rain.

Lex stepped out of the car with Maya and Nina beside him.

People came to greet them.

Neighbors.

Old family friends.

His father's former colleagues.

Everyone said the same things.

"He was a good man."

"He'll be missed."

"Be strong, son."

Lex thanked them all.

He didn't feel strong.

He felt hollow.

Then the conversations stopped.

Not gradually.

All at once.

Lex noticed the change before he understood it.

People were looking toward the cemetery entrance.

A black SUV had just passed through the gates.

It moved slowly between the graves before stopping near the funeral canopy.

The rear door opened.

A man stepped out.

Black suit.

Black shoes.

Black gloves.

Silver threaded through his dark hair.

Two men followed him.

Bodyguards.

Lex immediately knew the stranger wasn't there to mourn.

Not because of how he dressed.

Because of how everyone else reacted.

His aunt stopped crying.

His uncle looked away.

An elderly man near the prayer tent whispered something Lex couldn't hear.

Pastor Emmanuel lowered his Bible.

Maya grabbed Lex's arm.

"Who is that?"

"I don't know."

The stranger walked toward the coffin.

No one stopped him.

No one dared.

He stood over Daniel Aster's coffin for several seconds.

Then he removed a single white rose.

Placed it on the wood.

And whispered:

"My condolences."

His voice was quiet.

Almost respectful.

Then he turned.

His eyes found Lex.

For a moment, neither moved.

The stranger studied him.

Not like a grieving man's son.

Like a piece of information.

Then he walked away.

Lex watched him return to the SUV.

"Who was that?" he asked.

Nobody answered.

He looked at his uncle.

"Uncle?"

The older man shook his head.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't ask."

The SUV disappeared through the gates.

Lex looked back at his father's coffin.

For the first time that morning, he wondered whether his father's death had been as simple as everyone claimed.

The burial passed in a blur.

Soil struck the coffin.

Maya cried.

Nina held her hand.

Lex stood completely still.

He had imagined this moment a thousand times since the hospital called.

He had imagined himself crying.

Breaking down.

Saying something meaningful.

Instead, he felt nothing.

Maybe grief didn't always arrive as tears.

Maybe sometimes it arrived as emptiness.

When the last mourner began leaving, Lex remained beside the grave.

He stared at the fresh earth.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

His voice cracked.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

A voice answered behind him.

"Neither did your father."

Lex turned.

The man from the SUV stood there.

Alone this time.

Up close, he looked ordinary.

That was what frightened Lex most.

There was nothing monstrous about him.

Nothing that explained the fear surrounding him.

Just a calm man with cold eyes.

"Did you know my father?"

The man looked at the grave.

"Very well."

"Who are you?"

The stranger's eyes returned to Lex.

"They call me The Bishop."

Lex waited.

The name meant nothing to him.

Apparently, his confusion showed.

Something almost resembling amusement touched the man's face.

"You truly don't know."

"Know what?"

The Bishop reached inside his coat.

Lex stiffened.

The man removed a brown envelope.

He held it out.

Lex didn't take it.

"What is that?"

"Something your father left behind."

"My father didn't mention you."

"He didn't mention me to many people."

The Bishop stepped closer.

"That's what kept him alive for as long as it did."

Lex's stomach tightened.

"What does that mean?"

The Bishop placed the envelope against Lex's chest.

"Open it when you're alone."

Lex looked down at it.

His name was written across the front.

LEX.

He looked back up.

"What did my father do?"

The Bishop's expression changed.

For the first time, the calmness disappeared.

Not anger.

Something colder.

Regret.

"Your father knew a secret that powerful men would kill to protect."

Lex stared at him.

"What secret?"

The Bishop stepped back.

"That's what you're going to find out."

He turned.

Lex called after him.

"Wait."

The Bishop stopped.

"Why me?"

The man looked over his shoulder.

"Because your father trusted you."

Then he walked away.

Lex watched the black SUV disappear through the cemetery gates.

Only after it was gone did he notice Mr. Kareem standing several metres away.

The old man was staring at the envelope.

His face had gone pale.

"Where did you get that?"

Lex held it up.

"He gave it to me."

Mr. Kareem's walking stick trembled in his hand.

"Throw it away."

"What?"

"Now."

"You know what's inside?"

"I know what follows it."

Lex frowned.

Mr. Kareem stepped closer.

"Listen to me, boy. Your father spent years trying to keep you away from these people."

"Who are they?"

The old man looked toward the cemetery gates.

Then whispered:

"The kind of people who don't need to kill you themselves."

He looked at the envelope again.

"They make someone you love do it for them."

Lex felt the blood drain from his face.

Mr. Kareem walked away.

Lex remained beside his father's grave.

The envelope was still in his hand.

And for the first time since Daniel Aster died...

Lex was afraid to go home.

That night, he waited until Maya and Nina were asleep.

Then he locked his bedroom door.

The envelope sat on his desk.

He stared at it for nearly ten minutes.

Finally, he opened it.

Inside was a small brass key.

A number had been engraved into the metal.

247.

Beneath it was a folded piece of paper.

Lex opened it.

Three lines.

LOCKER 247

BLACKRIDGE CENTRAL STATION

GO ALONE.

His heartbeat accelerated.

He read it again.

Then—

Knock.

Lex froze.

Another knock.

Knock.

He looked at the bedroom door.

"Maya?"

No answer.

He slowly opened his door.

The hallway was empty.

The apartment was dark.

Then he heard Nina's bedroom door creak.

"Nina?"

Nothing.

He hurried toward her room.

She was asleep.

Lex exhaled.

A sudden sound came from the front door.

Something had fallen outside.

He approached cautiously.

Looked through the peephole.

Nobody.

He opened the door.

A small black package sat on the floor.

Lex stared at it.

He didn't touch it for several seconds.

Then he picked it up.

Inside was an old wristwatch.

His father's watch.

The one the hospital had told him they couldn't find after Daniel died.

Lex turned it over.

Something had been scratched into the back.

YOU HAVE 89 DAYS.

His phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

A message appeared.

Your father had 90.

Lex's fingers went cold.

Another message arrived.

He wasted them.

Then a third.

Don't make the same mistake.

Lex slowly raised his eyes toward the window.

Across the street, beneath a dead streetlight...

A black SUV was waiting.

Its headlights switched on.

Lex couldn't see the driver's face.

But he knew one thing.

Someone had been watching his family.

And now they knew he had opened the envelope.

The SUV remained there for three seconds.

Then it disappeared into the darkness.

Lex looked at the key in his palm.

247.

He didn't know what was inside that locker.

He didn't know what his father had done.

He didn't know why The Bishop had chosen him.

But he knew one thing.

Whatever Daniel Aster had spent his final years hiding...

someone was willing to kill to get it back.

And Lex had just inherited the secret

Lex didn't sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the black SUV.

Every time he opened them, the number 247 was still written across the brass key on his desk.

By 5:30 a.m., he had given up pretending he could wait.

He dressed quietly.

Black jeans. A faded shirt. His father's old jacket.

Before leaving, he stood outside Maya and Nina's rooms.

Both were asleep.

He hated leaving them alone.

But the note had been clear.

GO ALONE.

Lex slipped the key into his pocket.

Then he stopped.

His father's watch lay on the desk.

YOU HAVE 89 DAYS.

He picked it up and fastened it around his wrist.

If someone was watching him, he wanted them to believe he was following their rules.

He wasn't.

Not completely.

Blackridge Central Station was already alive when Lex arrived.

Commuters pushed through the entrance.

Vendors shouted over one another.

Buses groaned outside.

Nobody looked twice at him.

For the first time since his father's funeral, that almost felt comforting.

Almost.

Lex checked the number on the key again.

247.

The lockers were located beneath the eastern staircase.

Rows of metal doors stretched along the wall.

His footsteps slowed.

Then—

247.

Lex stopped.

The key fit perfectly.

He looked around.

A woman was arguing with a ticket officer.

A man in a blue jacket was reading a newspaper.

A security guard stood near the entrance.

Nobody seemed interested in him.

Lex inserted the key.

Turned it.

Click.

The locker opened.

Inside was a black leather briefcase.

Nothing else.

Lex stared at it.

His father's secret had been sitting inside a train station locker this entire time.

He reached for the case.

Then noticed something.

There was a small white rose taped to the handle.

Lex froze.

The same flower The Bishop had placed on his father's coffin.

Someone had been here before him.

Maybe recently.

He looked over his shoulder.

The man in the blue jacket was no longer reading his newspaper.

He was watching Lex.

Their eyes met.

The man immediately looked away.

Lex's instincts screamed.

He grabbed the briefcase and walked.

Not toward the exit.

Toward the restroom.

He entered, locked the door, and placed the case on the sink.

His hands were shaking.

There was no combination.

No lock.

He opened it.

Inside were three things.

A thick black notebook.

A small flash drive.

And a photograph.

Lex picked up the photograph first.

His breath stopped.

It showed his father standing beside three men.

One of them was The Bishop.

The second was a politician Lex recognized from television.

The third man...

Lex had never seen him before.

But someone had scratched his face out with a blade.

On the back of the photograph, his father's handwriting read:

THE FOURTH MAN IS THE ONE YOU MUST FEAR.

Lex read it twice.

Then again.

There were only three men in the photograph.

So why had his father written fourth?

He opened the notebook.

The first page contained a list of names.

Police officers.

Judges.

Businessmen.

Politicians.

Beside each name were dates and amounts of money.

Bribes.

Payments.

Transfers.

Lex turned the page.

More names.

More numbers.

More evidence.

His father's handwriting appeared beneath the final entry:

THE BISHOP DOESN'T CONTROL BLACKRIDGE.

Lex's heart pounded.

Below it was another sentence.

HE WORKS FOR SOMEONE ELSE.

A noise came from outside the restroom.

Footsteps.

Lex stopped breathing.

Someone entered.

Another set of footsteps followed.

Two people.

A voice spoke quietly.

"Check the lockers."

Lex's eyes widened.

He grabbed the flash drive and notebook.

The photograph slipped from his fingers.

It hit the floor.

He caught it before it made a sound.

The footsteps stopped outside the restroom.

Someone tried the handle.

Locked.

"Someone's inside."

Lex looked around desperately.

There was another door at the back.

He opened it.

A narrow maintenance corridor.

He squeezed through and pulled the door shut behind him.

A second later—

CRASH.

The restroom door was kicked open.

Lex ran.

He didn't stop until he reached the opposite side of the station.

His lungs burned.

He ducked behind a row of vending machines and watched the crowd.

The man in the blue jacket emerged from the maintenance corridor.

He wasn't alone.

Two men followed him.

They scanned the station.

Looking for Lex.

Lex lowered himself.

His phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message.

You were told to come alone.

Lex stared at the screen.

Another message appeared.

You weren't told to leave alive.

His blood went cold.

Then his phone rang.

He answered without thinking.

A familiar voice spoke.

The Bishop.

"You opened the locker."

Lex said nothing.

"I wondered how long it would take."

"Who are you?"

A quiet laugh.

"You already know."

"What did my father do?"

Silence.

Then—

"Your father didn't steal from me, Lex."

Lex's grip tightened.

"Then why are you following me?"

"Because he stole from the wrong man."

The call ended.

Lex stared at the screen.

For the first time, he understood.

The Bishop wasn't the only person hunting him.

He might not even be the worst one.

Lex looked down at the notebook in his hands.

His father's handwriting suddenly looked different.

Less like the writing of a dead father...

And more like a warning from a man who had known exactly how this would end.

At the bottom of the final page, beneath every name and every secret, Daniel had written one last sentence:

If Lex ever finds this, tell him I lied about how I died.

Lex's face went numb.

His father hadn't simply died.

Someone had made sure he died.

And whatever Daniel had discovered before his death...

was now in Lex's hands.

Lex read the sentence again.

If Lex ever finds this, tell him I lied about how I died.

His father's handwriting blurred.

For a moment, the noise of the station disappeared.

The people.

The trains.

The announcements.

Everything.

His father had lied.

But about what?

Lex flipped through the notebook again, searching for anything that could explain the sentence.

Nothing.

Just names.

Dates.

Payments.

Codes.

Then he noticed something he'd missed.

Every few pages, Daniel had drawn a small symbol in the corner.

A circle.

With four lines crossing through it.

Lex had seen it before.

On the back of the photograph.

And on the brass key.

247.

His stomach tightened.

The number wasn't a locker number.

It was a symbol.

A designation.

A warning.

Someone was standing behind him.

"Interesting, isn't it?"

Lex spun around.

The man in the blue jacket stood several metres away.

His hands were in his pockets.

Lex immediately recognized him.

The man who had been watching the lockers.

"Stay back."

The stranger smiled.

"You have your father's eyes."

Lex stepped backward.

"Who are you?"

"Someone trying to keep you alive."

"You followed me."

"I was making sure nobody else reached you first."

Lex tightened his grip around the notebook.

"Who are you working for?"

The man's smile disappeared.

"Nobody."

"Then why help me?"

"Because your father once helped me."

The station announcement echoed overhead.

"Train arriving on platform three..."

The stranger glanced toward the platforms.

"You need to leave."

"Why?"

"Because they're coming."

"Who?"

The man looked directly at the notebook.

"The people your father spent years running from."

Then he walked away.

Lex watched him disappear into the crowd.

He wanted to follow.

But something stopped him.

A feeling.

A warning.

He looked toward the station entrance.

Three men had just entered.

Black suits.

No luggage.

No tickets.

They weren't commuters.

They were searching.

For him.

Lex shoved the notebook and flash drive inside his jacket and moved toward the opposite exit.

He didn't run.

Running attracted attention.

He walked.

Calmly.

Slowly.

Until he reached the street.

Then he sprinted.

By the time Lex reached home, the sun had disappeared behind the clouds.

He stood outside the apartment for several seconds.

Something felt wrong.

The door was locked.

But he remembered locking it before leaving.

He opened it.

"Maya?"

No answer.

"Nina?"

Silence.

His heart began pounding.

He stepped inside.

The apartment looked normal.

Too normal.

Then he saw the dining table.

Three cups sat on it.

He had left only two.

Someone had been inside.

Lex reached for his phone.

A message appeared.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

You should have listened to your father.

Lex stared at it.

Then another.

Leave the notebook.

His eyes moved toward his bedroom.

The door was open.

He hadn't left it open.

Lex walked toward it slowly.

His father's old desk had been searched.

Drawers were open.

Clothes had been thrown onto the floor.

The mattress had been lifted.

Someone had searched the entire room.

But they had missed one thing.

The flash drive.

Lex touched it through his jacket.

Then he heard a noise.

From the kitchen.

A glass breaking.

Lex froze.

Someone was inside.

He reached for the nearest object—a metal lamp.

Then whispered:

"Maya?"

A figure stepped out of the kitchen.

Lex raised the lamp.

The figure raised both hands.

"Don't."

It was Maya.

Lex nearly dropped the lamp.

"Where were you?"

She stared at him.

"I went to the shop."

"With who?"

"No one."

Lex looked toward the broken glass.

"What happened?"

Maya's face changed.

She looked frightened.

"Someone came."

Lex's blood ran cold.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"What did they want?"

She hesitated.

Then—

"They asked for you."

Lex closed the door behind him.

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

Maya's eyes filled with tears.

"They said Dad owed them."

Lex stared at her.

"Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"They just left a message."

"Where?"

She pointed toward the living room.

On the wall, written in black marker, were five words:

YOUR FATHER'S DEBT IS YOURS.

Lex stood completely still.

Maya whispered:

"Lex..."

He didn't answer.

Because beneath the message was something else.

A small white rose.

That night, Lex didn't tell his sisters about the notebook.

He didn't tell them about the flash drive.

He didn't tell them that their father had lied about his death.

Instead, he waited until they were asleep.

Then he sat alone at the dining table.

The flash drive was connected to his laptop.

One folder appeared.

No title.

Just a single number.

04

Lex clicked it.

A video opened.

His father's face appeared on the screen.

Daniel looked older than Lex remembered.

Tired.

Afraid.

He stared directly into the camera.

"If you're watching this, I'm already dead."

Lex stopped breathing.

Daniel continued.

"I don't know who found this first. I don't know whether it will be you, the police, or them."

He paused.

Then looked away.

"Lex..."

His father's voice cracked.

"I'm sorry."

Lex's eyes burned.

"I wanted to tell you everything."

Daniel swallowed.

"But if I did, they would have come for you sooner."

He leaned closer to the camera.

"The man called The Bishop isn't the person you should fear."

Lex froze.

"He's only the gatekeeper."

A long silence.

Then Daniel said the words that changed everything.

"The person who ordered my death..."

His eyes moved toward the door behind him.

"...is someone you know."

The video ended.

Lex stared at the black screen.

His phone rang.

Unknown number.

He answered.

Nobody spoke.

Then a voice whispered:

"Now you understand."

Lex's blood turned cold.

He knew that voice.

He had heard it before.

At the funeral.

He looked toward the hallway.

Someone was standing outside his apartment.

A shadow beneath the door.

Lex slowly stood.

The voice came again through the phone.

"Don't open the door."

Lex stared at the shadow.

"Why?"

The answer came softly.

"Because I'm not outside."

The call ended.

Lex's eyes widened.

The shadow beneath the door moved.

But there was nobody in the hallway.

The shadow was coming from inside the apartment.

Lex slowly turned around.

Someone was standing behind him.

Holding a gun.