Chapter 26 — Caught
The factory didn’t look like a factory from the road.
Just a low building with faded paint.
A chain-link fence.
A security camera that followed cars like a lazy eye.
Inside, the air smelled sweet.
Artificial fruit. Burnt sugar.
Something else underneath it, metallic and wrong.
I wore a plain hoodie and jeans.
Hair tucked under a cap.
A fake name on my visitor badge.
“Eve Lin,” it read.
Close enough to my real one.
My notebook stayed hidden in my bag.
My phone stayed on airplane mode.
I watched.
I listened.
I counted exits.
Boxes moved down conveyor belts with bright labels.
*VitaBoost. HappyFocus. SlimJoy.*
Workers moved with their heads down.
No small talk.
No music.
Only the hum of machines and the occasional bark of a supervisor.
I stayed three days.
Then five.
On the sixth night, I found the locked door at the back.
No label.
No window.
Just a keypad.
When the supervisor walked away, I slipped behind stacked cartons and watched him punch in the code.
My eyes held the numbers.
My mind held my pulse steady.
After shift, I waited until the building emptied.
The parking lot lights buzzed.
The sky was low and colorless.
I returned to the back door.
Keypad cold under my fingertip.
I entered the code.
The door clicked.
Air hit my face—sharp, chemical, nothing like fruit flavoring.
The room beyond was smaller than I expected.
Metal tables.
Plastic tubs.
Powder residue like pale snow.
A smell that had no business in a vitamin factory.
My throat tightened.
I pulled my phone from my bag and turned on the camera.
No flash.
Just a red dot.
Hands steady.
I filmed labels.
Bags.
A stack of shipping documents with a name I recognized from local news.
Then a voice behind me.
Soft.
Too close.
“What are you doing?”
My blood ran cold.
I turned.
A man stood in the doorway.
Not a worker.
Not a supervisor.
Eyes too awake.
Smile too thin.
He looked past me at my phone.
Then at the open door.
His smile widened.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said.
The door behind him swung shut with a heavy click.
A lock sliding home.
The sound filled the room like a verdict.
I didn’t run.
Not yet.
Running would turn me into prey.
I kept my voice calm.
“I got lost,” I said.
He laughed once.
“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”
He stepped forward.
My body went tight.
Muscles ready.
My fingers slid into my pocket.
Not for a weapon.
For the jade charm.
Cool edge.
A small, stupid anchor.
My phone buzzed suddenly.
One bar of signal, then none.
No service.
He watched the screen.
His smile sharpened.
“You brought someone?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
He moved again.
Two steps.
Then his hand came up fast.
A blow.
White light exploded behind my eyes.
I hit the floor hard.
Concrete cold against my cheek.
Somewhere distant, my phone skittered and clattered.
My mouth tasted like pennies.
The man crouched beside me.
Close enough that I could smell cigarettes and something chemical.
“Who sent you?” he asked.
I tried to breathe.
Air shook in my lungs.
My thoughts ran toward Julian and stopped short.
Toward Noah and froze.
I didn’t say a name.
The man waited.
Then he stood.
I heard a sound like fabric tearing.
A zip tie tightening.
My wrists burned.
The last thing I saw before the room went dark was the jade charm slipping out of my pocket and rolling under the metal table.
Green against gray.
A small bright thing disappearing into shadow.
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