Chapter 6: The Woman Who Refused to Die

The fall should have killed me.

Instead, I woke to the sharp smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of a heart monitor.

For several seconds, I couldn't remember where I was.

Then the memories came rushing back.

Dimitri.

Francesca.

Leo.

My family.

The livestream.

The rooftop.

I tried to move, but pain exploded through my body.

A nurse noticed my eyes opening and immediately called for the doctor.

“She's awake.”

I stared at the ceiling while footsteps rushed toward me.

Alive.

Somehow, I was still alive.

But when I turned my head toward the window, I saw two police officers standing outside my room.

My stomach dropped.

They hadn't come because they were worried about me.

They had come because they thought I was a criminal.

The doctor checked my pupils and spoke quietly to the officers.

“She has multiple fractures, internal bleeding, and severe trauma.”

“She shouldn't have survived the fall.”

One of the officers glanced at me.

“Can she be questioned?”

The doctor shook his head.

“Not yet.”

I closed my eyes.

Even after everything, they still wanted answers from me.

Not about who had betrayed me.

Not about why I had been hunted for three years.

They wanted to know whether I had committed a crime.

My phone was lying on the bedside table.

Its screen was shattered, but somehow it was still receiving notifications.

Hundreds of them.

Thousands.

Some called me a murderer.

Some called me corrupt.

Others said I deserved what happened to me.

But buried beneath the hatred was one message that made my blood run cold.

Unknown Number:

“If you are alive, stop looking for the Tijuana warehouse.”

Another message arrived seconds later.

“The people who killed your family are not the people you think they are.”

I stared at the screen.

Killed your family.

Not faked their deaths.

Killed.

My fingers trembled as I opened the message thread.

There was only one photograph.

It showed a warehouse in Tijuana.

The same warehouse mentioned by Dimitri's former law firm assistant.

But the photograph had been taken three years ago.

And standing outside the warehouse was Francesca.

Beside her was Dimitri.

They weren't hiding.

They were meeting someone.

I zoomed in on the third person in the photograph.

My breath caught.

I knew that face.

It was the former deputy commissioner who had signed my suspension three years ago.

The man who had insisted there was insufficient evidence to keep investigating Dimitri's disappearance.

The man who had told me to accept that my husband and son were dead.

My pulse raced.

This wasn't just a family betrayal.

Someone inside the department had helped them.

The door opened.

Dimitri walked into the room.

For one terrible second, my heart reacted the way it had for ten years.

Then I remembered the rooftop.

I remembered his voice telling me that prison was my only option.

I remembered him saying Francesca deserved my evidence.

The feeling disappeared.

Dimitri stopped beside my bed.

His eyes were red, and for the first time since I had seen him again, he looked genuinely shaken.

“Lorelei.”

I said nothing.

He reached toward my hand.

I pulled it away.

“Don't touch me.”

His expression tightened.

“I thought you were dead.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“You already thought that once.”

“It didn't stop you from building a new life.”

He lowered his head.

“I never wanted this to happen.”

“You didn't want me to discover the truth,” I said.

“That's different.”

He went silent.

I watched him carefully.

“Why was Francesca at that warehouse three years ago?”

His face changed.

Only for a second.

But I saw it.

Fear.

Real fear.

“Where did you get that photograph?” he asked.

I smiled for the first time since waking up.

“So you do know what I'm talking about.”

Dimitri stepped backward.

“Lorelei, listen to me. You don't understand what you're involved in.”

“Then explain it.”

He looked toward the door.

The police officers were still outside.

“I can't.”

“You mean you won't.”

His jaw tightened.

“If you keep digging, people will die.”

I stared directly into his eyes.

“People already died.”

“I just happened to survive.”

For the first time, Dimitri looked at me not as his abandoned wife, not as Francesca's jealous sister, but as someone he could no longer control.

He turned toward the door.

“You need to leave this alone.”

I watched him walk away.

Then I looked at the photograph again.

Three years ago, I thought I had lost everything.

Now I realized something much worse.

My family hadn't simply betrayed me.

They had been hiding a crime.

And whatever happened in that warehouse was the reason they had spent three years making sure I would never find it.

I slowly closed my fingers around the phone.

They had tried to bury the truth.

They had tried to bury me with it.

But I was still alive.

And this time, I wasn't going to investigate for my family.

I was going to investigate for myself.