Chapter 19: Forty-Eight Hours

I read the anonymous message again.

You have forty-eight hours to leave New York.

Or you will end up exactly where you did last time.

My grandmother saw my expression and immediately understood.

"They've threatened you."

"Yes."

Jack took the phone from my hand and studied the number.

"Don't reply."

"I wasn't planning to."

He saved a screenshot before handing it back.

My grandmother slowly lowered herself into a chair.

"Esme, you need to leave the city tonight."

I shook my head.

"No."

"They already tried to kill you once."

"Exactly. And running now would give them another chance."

I looked at the black envelope still clutched in my hand.

"This time, I'm going to make sure they can't hide behind anyone."

Jack nodded.

"Then we need more than documents."

"We need evidence they can't destroy."

My grandmother looked toward the old safe built into the wall.

"There is something else."

She pulled a brass key from a chain around her neck.

"Your grandfather left this behind."

She unlocked the safe.

Inside was a small recorder, several bank statements, and a sealed envelope bearing my father's name.

I picked up the recorder.

"What's on it?"

"Your father's conversation with the doctor."

My pulse jumped.

"You recorded them?"

"Your grandfather did."

Jack connected the recorder to his laptop.

A man's voice filled the room.

"The evaluation has to look authentic."

It was the doctor.

Then my father's voice answered.

"I don't care what you have to write. Make it convincing."

"And the dosage?"

"Enough to make her disappear without leaving a clear trail."

My fingers went numb.

Even after hearing it once, I couldn't believe how casually they discussed my death.

Then another voice spoke.

Emma.

"What if she wakes up?"

My grandmother closed her eyes.

Jack stopped the recording.

"That's enough for now."

"No."

I looked at him.

"Play the rest."

The recording continued.

My father sighed.

"Once Esme is gone, everyone will believe she couldn't handle Emma's death."

Emma's voice was barely audible.

"And Corbin?"

"Corbin will blame himself. That's all we need."

Then came a sentence that made my blood run cold.

"Afterward, Emma gets the Sinclair inheritance through marriage."

The recording ended.

Silence filled the room.

So that had been the plan.

My parents hadn't simply wanted me dead.

They wanted my death to complete Emma's path into the Sinclair family.

But there was still one question.

"Why did Emma agree to this if she knew what they planned to do to me?"

Jack looked at me.

"Maybe she didn't expect them to actually kill you."

"Or maybe she did."

My grandmother reached for my hand.

"You don't have to forgive her."

"I know."

I looked down at the aquamarine ring.

For the first time, it didn't feel like a symbol of a second chance.

It felt like a warning.

A reminder of everything that had happened because I once chose the wrong life.

My phone rang.

This time, it was Corbin.

I answered.

"Esme, where are you?"

"Why?"

"Because my mother knows you have the evidence."

I glanced at Jack.

"How does she know?"

"Someone told her."

"Who?"

Corbin went silent.

"Emma."

My stomach dropped.

"She betrayed me again?"

"I don't think she did it willingly."

"What does that mean?"

"She disappeared an hour ago."

I stood up.

"What?"

"Her phone was found in the Sinclair garage. Her car is still here."

Corbin's voice became urgent.

"Esme, someone has taken her."

I didn't know whether to believe him.

But then another message appeared on my phone.

A photograph.

Emma was sitting in a dark room, her hands tied behind her back.

There was blood on her cheek.

Under the photograph were six words.

"Bring the evidence, or she's next."

Jack's expression hardened.

My grandmother covered her mouth.

I stared at the image.

For years, I had believed Emma was the person destroying my life.

Now, someone else had taken control of the game.

And they had just made one mistake.

They had given me a reason to find them.