Chapter 17 - The Sanctuary In The Slums
I pulled Lily into the shadows before Sterling’s gaze could sweep our direction.
We had no clothes, no car, and our credit cards would instantly alert anyone tracking Marcus’s estate.
There was only one place left to go.
Nurse Claire Vance.
The woman who had called Marcus’s phone had mentioned Ward 6.
In Marcus’s secret ledger, beneath the endless rows of figures, he had scribbled a home address under Claire’s emergency contact:
*742 Mercer Street, Apartment 3B.*
Mercer Street was in the forgotten industrial district near the shipping docks, miles away from the manicured lawns of suburban prestige.
We arrived by city bus just as the clock tower struck nine.
The tenement building smelled of damp concrete, boiled cabbage, and exhaust fumes.
I carried an exhausted Lily up the dim staircase, her head resting heavily on my shoulder.
I knocked three times on the chipped wooden door of Apartment 3B.
A chain rattled behind the peephole.
The door opened just two inches, revealing a woman in her early thirties with dark circles beneath her sleepless, bloodshot eyes.
She looked down at Lily, then up into my hollow face.
Her breath hitched in recognition.
"Mrs. Hayes?" she whispered in disbelief.
"Marcus sent me," I said, my voice cracking from exhaustion.
Claire’s face went pale.
She threw the door open, pulled us inside, and immediately engaged three deadbolts and a security bar.
The apartment was small, cluttered with medical textbooks, half-packed cardboard boxes, and drawn blackout curtains.
Claire knelt down immediately before Lily, offering her a glass of warm milk and a worn fleece blanket on the sofa.
Within minutes, Lily’s breathing softened into the deep, merciful sleep of pure exhaustion.
Claire turned back to me, her hands shaking as she lit a cigarette by the kitchen sink.
"I saw the news on the scanner," Claire said, tears welling in her eyes.
"They blew your house apart."
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"Sterling isn't human, Eleanor."
"He poisoned your husband."
