Chapter 2 - The Shadow of the Arena
Word of the "Miracle at the Arena" moved through the city faster than a wildfire. By the next morning, men in black SUVs were parked at the end of the block. They weren't there to kill—not yet. They were there to watch.
Sean, the Mafia boss, sat in the back of one of those SUVs, watching the small, dilapidated house through high-powered binoculars. He hadn't expected to see the girl walking the dog the next morning, looking for scraps of discarded bread in the alley, her hand resting firmly on the beast’s collar.
"Boss," his right-hand man, Vinnie, said from the driver's seat. "If we just take the dog, the girl won't have any leverage. We can win back the money, regain the respect of the families."
Sean didn't move. He watched Carrie stop by a fountain in the park, blowing that strange, haunting note on her whistle. He watched Raleigh, the dog who had ripped apart two men in a cage, suddenly trot after a butterfly like a puppy.
"It’s not about the dog anymore, Vinnie," Sean muttered. "The dog is a mirror. I’ve spent twenty years turning beasts into killers. She turned one into... something else. If she can do that to Raleigh, imagine what she could do to the people who follow me."
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"Are you saying you're afraid of a blind girl?"
Sean slammed his hand against the door. "I'm saying the power she has isn't in her hands. It’s in that whistle. And I need to know what happens when the music stops."
