npub1ff…g8x7p on Nostr: Chapter 16 cont. The shrill buzz of her phone shattered the quiet. Diana jerked, the ...

Chapter 16 cont.
The shrill buzz of her phone shattered the quiet. Diana jerked, the book sliding off her lap. Her heart hammered as she reached for the device, screen glowing with Herman's name.

Her thumb hovered over the answer button. Zane's warning echoed in her head—Luis wants to sell you. But Herman was her brother. He'd taught her to ride a bike. He'd snuck her extra food when Luis punished her for talking back.

She swiped to answer.

"Diana." Herman's voice crackled through the speaker, tight with panic. "Diana, thank God."

"Herman." She gripped the phone harder. "Where are you?"

"Doesn't matter. I can't stay in Phoenix. That raid—everything's blown to hell. Luis is going to kill me for running."

Ice flooded Diana's veins. "Where is Luis?"

"I don't know. I don't know where he is, but he's looking for me. For both of us." Herman's breathing rasped in her ear. "He knows I ran. He'll think I set up the raid."

"Did you?"

Silence stretched between them, loaded with years of shared secrets and survival.

"No," Herman said finally. "But Luis won't care about the truth. You know how he gets."

Diana closed her eyes. She did know. Luis with his quick fists and quicker temper. Luis who'd looked at her differently after her stepfather died, appraising her like merchandise instead of family.

"What do you need?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Money. Enough to get back to Venezuela. Start fresh somewhere Luis won't find me." His voice dropped lower. "Please, Diana. You're all I've got. You know I'd do the same for you."

Would he? She wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe someone from her old life gave a damn whether she lived or died. But Zane's words kept circling—sex slavery, trafficking, selling you.

Herman was Luis's brother. Blood.

"I don't have money," Diana said carefully.

"But you can get it. That ICE agent who grabbed you—Bradshaw, right? Max told Luis his name. You're with him now?"

Diana's stomach clenched. "How did you—"

"Doesn't matter. Point is, he's got cash. Feds always do. Just grab what you can and meet me. Tomorrow night."

"Herman, I can't just steal from—"

"Tomorrow night," Herman cut her off. "Remember that old gas station off Route 60? The one Papa used for meetings?"

The abandoned Chevron station. Rusted pumps and broken windows, surrounded by empty desert. She and Herman had played there as children while their stepfather conducted business inside. They'd built forts from old tires and pretended the wasteland was an ocean.

"I remember."

"Ten o'clock. Come alone, Diana. If you bring that agent, Luis will know. He's got people watching."

Diana's throat tightened. Every instinct screamed trap. But Herman's voice cracked on her name, desperate and afraid, and she remembered him at twelve, protecting her from Luis's rage after she'd spilled a drink at dinner.

"Okay," she whispered. "Tomorrow night. Ten o'clock."

"Thank you." Relief flooded Herman's words. "Thank you. I knew you wouldn't abandon me."

The line went dead.

Diana sat frozen, phone clutched in both hands. Through the bedroom window, Phoenix sprawled under harsh afternoon sun—concrete and heat and endless sprawl. Somewhere out there, Luis hunted for them both. And tomorrow night she'd walk straight into the desert to meet her stepbrother.

Alone.