Chapter 14: The Night of the Gala
The autumn air was crisp and smelled of expensive perfume, exhaust fumes, and damp leaves as rows of luxury sedans lined the grand driveway of the Miller estate.
Floodlights illuminated the sprawling manicured lawns, casting long, dancing shadows across the neoclassical facade of the mansion.
Inside, a string quartet played softly beneath crystal chandeliers, and high-society elites mingled in designer tuxedos and glittering evening gowns.
Hidden in the shadows of the western terrace garden, dressed in a dark, inconspicuous turtleneck and black trousers designed to hide her silhouette, Rebecca stood beside her father beneath the second-story balcony.
"Remember," Thomas whispered softly, checking the magazine of his pistol before tucking it securely into his waistband. "If anything goes wrong, you head straight for the perimeter fence. I'll cover your exit."
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"I'm coming back with the data, Dad," Rebecca whispered back.
With quiet, athletic precision honed by weeks of desperate survival, Thomas boosted Rebecca up toward the wrought-iron balcony railing. Gritting her teeth against a sudden tightening in her abdomen, Rebecca hauled herself over the railing, slipped through the unlocked French doors of her former art studio, and vanished into the darkened interior of the mansion.
