Sounds of sirens wailed in the distance, blending with the chaos of shattered glass and crumpled metal. Ten cars had collided in a spectacular mess, smoke billowing from the wreckage. People rushed to the scene, eyes wide with disbelief, but amid the commotion, Maggie and Jake had a singular focus. "Jake!" Maggie yelled, her voice cutting through the noise as she sprinted toward a sleek black Rolls Royce, "There's a baby in the car!" Jake turned, his expression one of indifference. "No one mentioned a baby, Maggie," he replied flatly, his focus unwavering. "We need to finish the job quickly." "Finish the job?" she snapped, feelings of disdain rising within her. "What about the baby?" "Why should I care?" Jake shot back, a sneer on his lips. "It's just a baby! A baby will never remember."
With that, he turned his back to her and approached the car, where the driver and two bodyguards lay unconscious from the impact. The adrenaline coursing through him overshadowed any flicker of morality. He swiftly eliminated them, each action cold and calculated, a grim efficiency that left Maggie feeling a mixture of fear and disgust. "Jake, you can't just—" she began, but the sight of him moving with such purpose made her stomach churn. "Shut up, Maggie," he barked, turning to her with a fierce glare. "We have work to do."
Inside the car, the couple stirred slightly, their dazed expressions a testament to the chaos outside. Jake wasted no time; he leaned in, pinning the man down and starting to suffocate him. The woman, terrified, struggled weakly, but it was futile. "Help me!" the man gasped, his voice barely a whisper, eyes wide with panic. "Maggie, please!" "Make it quick!" Jake ordered, his voice dripping with impatience. Maggie's heart raced, her hands trembling as she grabbed a plastic bag from the floor of the car. "I… I ." "Just do it!" Jake shouted, his voice echoing with authority. Maggi placed the bag over the woman's head, her breath hitching in her throat.
The baby, secure in a car seat, stared wide-eyed at the horrifying scene unfolding before them. Silent tears welled in Maggie's eyes, but she felt trapped, unable to pull away. Time seemed to stretch as she and Jake suffocated the couple, their bodies growing limp. The woman's last gasps echoed in Maggie's ears, and a wave of nausea washed over her. "What do we do with the baby?" Maggie asked, her voice trembling as she glanced at Jake, who seemed unfazed by the entire situation. "Just leave the baby. Let's go," he replied dismissively, waving his hand as if the child were nothing more than an afterthought. "Our job is done." Maggie hesitated, a pang of guilt striking her heart. "Jake, we can't just leave it here! It's a baby!" "Why do you care?" he snapped, frustration boiling over. "You think it will remember any of this? It's just a nuisance now." The baby continued to watch, its innocent eyes wide, absorbing the horror without a single cry.
Maggie could hear was her own heartbeat, thundering in her ears. She turned away, obeying Jake's order. As they slipped away into the shadows, the baby remained, a silent witness to the darkness that had passed.
Mark paced the gilded hall, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, while Barbara stood nearby, her gaze fixed on a toddler sitting on the floor, surrounded by towering stacks of books. "Is Axel… is he normal?" Mark asked abruptly, breaking the silence. His voice was tinged with concern but edged with irritation. "Why wouldn't a two-year-old talk? From the reports I get, he just sits there and looks all day." Barbara sighed, her heart aching at the thought of her sister's son. "The doctors have examined him, Mark. They can't find anything wrong.
He just surrounds himself with his father's books." She paused, a bittersweet smile creeping onto her face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's reading them. But he can't even speak. What a shame." Mark turned to her, his brow furrowed. "Has the lawyer written our check for the month?" His tone shifted quickly, the weight of the situation replaced by a businesslike urgency. "I just collected it," Barbara replied softly, a hint of hesitation in her voice. "Good. Let's go. What are we waiting for?"
Mark's impatience was palpable as he glanced at his watch, as if time itself were slipping away. "Mark," Barbara said, a note of desperation creeping in. "Shouldn't we take Axel home with us? He needs a family." "No way," Mark shot back, his voice firm. "I don't want a dumb brat around my kids. Let the butlers and nannies do their job. We just came for our check. Let's go. It's not our fault his parents are dead."
Her heart sank at his callous words. Barbara looked down at Axel, who was still sitting quietly, his big blue eyes staring up at her, innocent and uncomprehending. She felt a pang of pity wash over her. "I hope one day you'll be able to speak," she whispered to him, her voice filled with warmth and sorrow. Axel simply blinked, his gaze unchanging, as if he understood less than any child should. It was as if he were trapped in a world that was too loud and chaotic for his silent existence.
"Barbara!" Mark snapped, impatience bubbling over. "We're wasting time. This isn't our problem. We came here to collect, not to babysit." "I'm not saying we should babysit!" she retorted, a flicker of irritation igniting within her. "I just thought—" "You thought what? That we could save him?" Mark interrupted, rolling his eyes. "He is not our problem, Barbara. We have our own kids to think about. We can't drag that burden home with us." A heavy silence fell between them, filled only by the distant ticking of a clock, Barbara felt torn, her heart aching for Axel, who she thought remained oblivious to the conversation unfolding around him. It was as if he were trapped in a world of his own making, where words were unnecessary, but the loneliness seemed to seep into every corner.
"Let's just go," Mark said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. He turned away from Axel, heading towards the door. "We're done here." Barbara lingered for a moment longer, torn between the desire to comfort the boy and the urgency of Mark's insistence. She wanted to kneel beside him, to tell him he wasn't alone, to let him know that someone cared. But she felt the weight of Mark's presence urging her to leave. She followed him out, casting one last glance back at Axel. He remained seated, surrounded by the books that had become his only companions. As they stepped out of the mansion, Barbara felt a profound sense of abandonment, both for Axel and for herself. They had left without a word, without a hug, without hope.