Page 35 of Cage the Storm
“They trust you; maybe you can get them to talk,” I continue. “They need affirmation as soon as possible.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll ensure she has access to them and let her know everything we discussed,” Mateo reassures me.
“Good. Get it done.” Luna and Mateo step outside the door, and I take advantage of the silence.
I lean back in the chair, just to breathe. Somewhere between one breath and the next, I drift off.
A muffled voice filters in from the hallway. Then the door creaks open, and Mateo’s phone buzzes. He answers immediately.
Sleep clings to my limbs as I blink awake, but I sit up, dragging a palm down my face, trying to wipe away the fatigue.
My fingers tap a restless rhythm against the desk as I watch him. He’s all clipped responses and nods.
Something’s changed.
He hangs up, turning to me with that look I know too well.
“We might have a name,” Mateo says. “It’s not confirmed, but it’s worth checking out.”
Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, I ask, “Who?”
Mateo glances at his phone, then back at me. “Carlo Morales.”
I never thought I’d hear that name again. Once was enough. If Carlo’s involved, things just got personal.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
LUNA
The conversationimmediately stops as soon as I step inside the room. Some of the women look curious; others are instantly on guard. I take a moment for them to acknowledge my presence so they can see that I’m not a threat.
I recognize the look in their eyes, the uncertainty, the fear of the unknown. They’ve been given the option to leave, but leaving means stepping into a world they haven’t navigated in far too long. And for some, that’s more terrifying than staying.
Taking a seat, I keep my posture open; it’s less threatening. “Mateo mentioned that some of you are ready to leave,” I add. “But I also know that just because you’re ready physically doesn’t mean you feel ready.”
There’s a pause, then one woman squirms in her seat, another crosses her arms tightly. Some avoid my gaze altogether, and others hold it. I focus on them when I speak.
“I just want to make sure you’ve had enough time to think it through,” I say. “Leaving’s a big step, and you don’t have a deadline hanging over your head.”
The room stays dead silent until Amara finally steps forward. Then whispers, “But... what if we’ve got nowhere to go?”
“That’s why I’m here,” I say. “We’ll figure it all out together.”
I look at Amara. She’s the one who can help me connect with them. The others might not trust me yet, but they trust her. She’s been around Mateo long enough to understand how things work, but she’s still one of them. That’s powerful.
“They’ve kept you safe, treated your injuries, and shown you respect. You’ve seen how they operate, and how generous they can be.” Amara holds my gaze, but she doesn’t shy away from the conversation.
“I have.” I give it a second. Let them absorb it.
“So, if you had to say,” I continue, “what’s holding everyone back. Is it fear? Or something worse?” The room is still, but all eyes glance at Amara. They want to hear her answer.
“It’s not just fear,” she says slowly. “It’s that leaving means making a choice. And when you’ve spent this long without one, it’s hard to believe you have that kind of freedom.” A few of the women look down, processing her words. Others fold their arms, guarded.
“You do have a choice to make,” I say confidently. “It’s terrifying, I know. But doing what’s right for you, that’s the only way forward.” Amara glances at the others, then back at me.
“So, what happens if they say no? If they don’t leave?”
