The Man in the Shadows

The fog thickened as they approached the lower docks, turning everything into a blur of muted grays and looming shapes. The air was heavy, laced with salt and the sharp tang of fish. Massive ships lined the water's edge, their hulking silhouettes casting long shadows across the wharf. Between them, crates and barrels were stacked in haphazard piles, forming a twisting maze that made it easy to get lost.

But Adélard didn't slow down. His grip on Leon's hand was firm, guiding him through the labyrinthine paths with a determination that bordered on desperation. Leon kept his eyes fixed on his brother's back, trying not to trip as they moved deeper into the heart of the docks.

They stopped at the base of a large warehouse. It towered over them, its walls stained with rust and its windows dark. A single lamp flickered by the entrance, casting an eerie glow that only made the place look more sinister. This was where Hector had sent them. This was where Rourke—the man who might hold the key to their mother's whereabouts—was waiting.

"Stay behind me," Adélard murmured, his voice low and tense.

Leon swallowed hard but nodded, pressing himself close to his brother's side. They approached the entrance slowly, the creak of the old wooden planks underfoot echoing in the stillness. As they reached the door, a burly man stepped out of the shadows, blocking their path.

"State your business," the man growled, crossing his thick arms over his chest. He looked like a boulder given life—broad, muscular, and utterly immovable.

"We're here to see Rourke," Adélard said evenly, not breaking eye contact.

The guard's gaze slid over them dismissively, lingering on Leon for just a moment too long. "Rourke doesn't take visitors. Especially not kids."

"This is important," Adélard insisted. "We're looking for our mother. Someone said Rourke might know where she is."

The guard's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes—curiosity, maybe. He glanced over his shoulder, then back at the boys. "Wait here."

Leon watched as the man disappeared inside, the heavy door swinging shut behind him. The seconds stretched painfully long, each one tightening the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He glanced up at Adélard, trying to read his brother's expression, but Adélard's face was a mask of calm determination.

Then, finally, the door creaked open again.

"Boss'll see you," the guard grunted, jerking his head toward the dimly lit interior. "But keep your mouths shut, and don't touch anything. You don't want to piss him off."

Adélard nodded sharply and stepped inside, pulling Leon along with him. The warehouse was dimly lit, the shadows thick and oppressive. Rows of stacked crates loomed around them, casting long, jagged shapes on the walls. At the far end of the room, a cluster of men stood around a makeshift office—a few tables pushed together, papers scattered across them, and a single man sitting in a high-backed chair.

Rourke.

He was lean and sharp-featured, with a neatly trimmed beard and dark hair slicked back. His clothes were too fine for a place like this—a crisp black suit, polished shoes, a silk tie. He looked out of place among the rough dockhands, but there was a weight to his presence that made it clear who was in charge.

"Well, well," Rourke drawled, his voice smooth and oily as he leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "What do we have here? Hector's little lost lambs?"

Adélard straightened, shoulders squared. "We're looking for our mother. Hector said she came here looking for work. Please, if you know where she is—"

Rourke's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I know exactly who you're talking about. Desperate woman, blonde hair, a bit… unsteady, if I recall. She was quite insistent on getting money."

Leon's heart leapt. "So you did see her! Where is she?"

Rourke's gaze shifted to Leon, his smile turning almost fatherly. "Ah, the little one speaks. Yes, I saw her. But you see, boys, money doesn't come without strings attached. She agreed to a job. A very important job. But… let's just say she didn't quite deliver."

Adélard's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Rourke leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly. "Your mother was supposed to make a delivery. A simple task, really, but she vanished before completing it. And that's a problem for me. A very big problem."

"Where is she?" Adélard demanded, his voice tight. "What did you do to her?"

Rourke raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Me? I didn't do anything. She's the one who didn't hold up her end of the bargain. And until that's resolved, well… let's just say she's not exactly free to leave."

Leon felt his chest tighten. "So she's… she's still here?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Rourke shrugged lightly. "That depends on you."

Adélard took a step forward, fists clenched at his sides. "What do you want?"

Rourke's smile turned predatory. "I want the delivery completed. It's a small package—nothing you need to worry about. Just bring it to the address I give you, and I'll make sure your mother comes back to you."

Leon's pulse pounded in his ears. "And if we don't?"

The smile vanished from Rourke's face. "Then you'll never see her again."

Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. Adélard stood there, shoulders tense, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. Leon stared up at his brother, heart hammering, waiting for his answer. They were just kids. Whatever this job was, it sounded dangerous. But what choice did they have?

"Fine," Adélard said quietly, his voice like steel. "We'll do it."

Rourke's smile returned, sharp and satisfied. "Good boy. The package will be ready by morning. And remember"—his gaze hardened, turning cold—"if you try to run, if you breathe a word of this to anyone… well, let's just say it won't end well. For any of you."

Adélard didn't flinch. "We understand."

"Good." Rourke waved a hand dismissively. "Now get out. I'll send word when it's time."

Without another word, Adélard turned on his heel, pulling Leon with him as they walked out of the warehouse and back into the foggy morning air. Leon looked up at his brother, confusion and fear swirling in his chest.

"Brother, what's going to happen?"

Adélard's face was pale, his jaw clenched. He glanced down at Leon, his expression softening slightly.

"We're going to get her back, Leon," he said quietly. "No matter what."

And as they stood there, two small figures against the vastness of the docks, Leon believed him.

Because when it came to his brother, there was no such thing as giving up.