Late at night…
Ethan couldn't sleep. He turned from one side to the other, waiting for everyone to fall asleep. Nicholas's warning echoed in his mind, gnawing at his nerves like a relentless specter.
Beads of sweat clung to his skin. With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, running a trembling hand across his damp forehead.
"I need to act fast. I can't wait for them to dig up the truth."
Ethan's mind raced through the possibilities. Running was his only option. He had the money—more than enough to start over somewhere far away, somewhere no one knew his name. He still had the house gifted to him by the Williams. Selling it would give him a fresh start.
"I'll start a business on my own," he murmured. "Nicholas won't be able to mock me again. But before that, I need to do this."
His resolve hardened. He threw aside the blanket and moved toward his suitcase. Kneeling, he unzipped it and reached into the side pocket, fingers brushing against something small and cold.
The vial.
