The Safe Zone

Chapter 10: The Fight for Truth

Lena:

Every morning felt like waking up on a battlefield. I would open my eyes, stare at the ceiling, and remind myself that today wasn't the day to give up. There was no time for fear, no space for second-guessing. Ethan and I were too deep, and the only way out was forward. The document we'd uncovered was more than words on a page—it was a lifeline, a chance to expose the truth buried beneath layers of lies and deceit. But with every step we took, the path became more treacherous.

We spent days scouring the internet, contacting journalists, whistleblowers, and anyone willing to listen. It wasn't easy. Most people dismissed us outright, unwilling to risk their reputations on the ramblings of two strangers with a half-baked conspiracy theory. I couldn't blame them. On paper, it sounded wild—a government-engineered virus, a plot to control the population through fear and misinformation. It was the kind of thing that belonged in the darkest corners of the web, not in the headlines of reputable news outlets.

But we kept pushing. We knew we had to find someone who would take us seriously, someone with the resources and connections to dig deeper than we could. I drafted email after email, tweaking the language and tone to strike the perfect balance between urgency and credibility. Ethan and I worked in tandem, sharing leads, comparing notes, and buoying each other when the rejections started to pile up.

Then, one afternoon, a name popped up in my inbox that made my heart skip a beat. It was a response from a journalist I'd admired for years—an investigative reporter known for her relentless pursuit of the truth, no matter the cost. I read her message with a growing sense of hope.

Carla Novak: I've read your materials, and I must admit, this is one hell of a story. I'm interested. But if we run with this, I need more than just speculation. I need proof—something concrete that I can take to my editors. Can you meet?

I stared at the screen, barely able to process what I saw. Proof. She needed evidence, and we had it—or at least, the beginnings of it. I immediately forwarded the message to Ethan, my fingers trembling with excitement.

Lena: She wants to meet. We're on the right track.

His reply was quick, but I could sense the same cautious optimism I felt.

Ethan: Let's do it. But we need to be careful. We can't afford any mistakes now.

We agreed to meet Carla at a café on the city's outskirts, a quiet spot unlikely to draw attention. I arrived early, my nerves on edge, as I scanned the room, searching for any sign of trouble. Carla was already there, seated at a table near the back. She was exactly as I'd pictured—sharp-eyed, poised, and determined. I took a deep breath and approached, trying to project an air of confidence I didn't feel.

"Lena, right?" she said, extending a hand. Her grip was firm, her expression serious. "I've heard a lot about you and Ethan. I'm interested in what you have to say."

"Thank you for meeting with us," I said, sliding into the chair across from her. "This means a lot."

Ethan arrived a few minutes later, his demeanor calm but his eyes flicking nervously around the room. He sat beside me, and we quickly dove into the details, laying out everything we'd found. Carla listened intently, her face a mask of concentration as she took notes, occasionally asking pointed questions that forced us to rethink our approach. We showed her the document, the videos, the snippets of conversations we'd recorded. She didn't flinch, her expression growing more intense with each revelation.

"This is explosive," she said, leaning back in her chair. "But it's also dangerous. If this gets out and it's wrong, the fallout will be massive. I need to know that you're certain about this."