Amara's POV
The security guards were throwing my things into boxes when I got home from the hospital.
"Stop!" I screamed, running toward them. "Those are my things! This is my house!"
One of the guards, a big man with cold eyes, stepped in front of me.
"Not anymore, miss," he said. "This house belongs to the bank now."
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "My parents owned this house!"
"Your parents owed a lot of money," the man said, showing me some official-looking papers. "The bank is taking the house to pay their debts."
I grabbed the papers and read them as fast as I could. According to these papers, my parents had borrowed millions of dollars and used our house as security. When they died, the bank had the right to take everything.
But this was impossible. My parents never borrowed money from anyone. They always said debt was dangerous.
"This is fake!" I said, shaking the papers. "Someone made these up!"
"That's what they all say," the guard said, not caring about my tears. "You have ten minutes to take whatever fits in one bag. Everything else stays here."
I ran inside my house—my old house—and looked around at everything I was losing. The piano where my mom taught me to play music. The kitchen table where we ate dinner together every night. The family pictures covering every wall.
How was I going to fit my whole life into one suitcase?
I ran upstairs to my bedroom and started throwing clothes into my biggest bag. I also grabbed the business card Elijah Russell had given me at the funeral. Something told me I might need his help.
As I was packing, I heard people downstairs. Sheila and Jayden had arrived.
"Oh, Amara!" Sheila called out in her fake-sweet voice. "We came as soon as we heard!"
I walked downstairs carrying my bag. Sheila and Jayden were standing by the front door, looking around at all my family's things being packed away.
"Isn't this terrible?" Sheila said, but I noticed she was smiling just a little bit. "I can't believe your parents had so many debts."
"They didn't," I said strongly. "Someone is lying about this."
"Oh, sweetie," Sheila said, putting her arm around me. "I know it's hard to accept, but sometimes parents keep secrets from their children."
"My parents didn't keep secrets from me," I said, pulling away from her.
"Well, the important thing is that you're not alone," Jayden said. "You can come live with us."
Something about the way he said it made me feel scared instead of thankful.
"Live with you where?" I asked.
"My family has a small apartment above our store," Sheila said. "It's not much, but it's better than being homeless."
Homeless. The word hit me like a punch in the stomach. Three days ago, I was rich. I lived in a house. I had everything I could ever want.
Now I was homeless.
"I don't have any money," I said quietly. "How will I pay you rent?"
"Don't worry about money," Sheila said quickly. "We'll take care of everything."
But the look in her eyes made me nervous. Why would she want to take care of me? What was she getting out of this?
"Actually," I said, "maybe I should call some of my other friends. Or my family's lawyer."
"Your lawyer is dead," Jayden said simply.
"What?" I stared at him in shock.
"Mr. Warren died in a car accident yesterday," Sheila stated. "Apparently his brakes stopped working."
My blood turned cold. First my parents died in a car crash because their brakes were cut. Now my lawyer died the exact same way?
This couldn't be an accident.
"Who else knows about your parents' financial problems?" I asked carefully.
"Just the people who need to know," Sheila said. "The bank, the board members, Chairman Crain..."
Chairman Crain. The man who was buying my family's company.
"I want to talk to Chairman Crain," I said. "I want to see proof that my parents owed money."
Sheila and Jayden looked at each other quickly.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Jayden said.
"Why not?"
"Because you're emotional right now," Sheila said. "You might say something you'll regret later."
"Like what?"
"Like accusing innocent people of lying," Sheila said, her voice getting harder. "That could get you in trouble."
The way she said "trouble" sounded like a threat.
"Time's up!" the security guard called out. "Everyone needs to leave now."
I picked up my bag and walked toward the door. As I was going, I looked back at the house where I had lived my whole life. I had been so happy here. So safe.
Now it belonged to strangers.
"Come on," Sheila said, pulling me toward her car. "Let's get you settled in your new home."
But as we drove away from my house, I noticed something strange. We weren't going toward Sheila's family store. We were driving in the opposite way.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"I lied about the apartment," Sheila said, her fake-sweet voice disappearing totally. "We're taking you somewhere else."
"Where?" I demanded, starting to worry.
"Somewhere where you can't cause any more problems," Jayden said, not looking at me.
I tried to open the car door, but it was locked from the outside.
"Let me out!" I screamed, pulling on the door handle.
"Calm down," Sheila said. "You're being dramatic."
But I wasn't being emotional. I was in danger. Real danger.
I pulled out my phone to call for help, but the screen was black. The phone was totally dead, even though I had charged it that morning.
"Looking for this?" Sheila held up my phone charger. "I took it while you were packing. Can't have you calling anyone."
We drove for what felt like hours, getting farther and farther away from the city. Finally, we stopped in front of an old, empty building.
"Get out," Jayden said, his voice barely a whisper.
I could see he felt bad about what they were doing, but he was doing it anyway.
"Please don't do this," I begged them. "I thought you were my friends."
"We were never your friends," Sheila said, smiling her real smile for the first time. "We were always your enemies. You were just too stupid to see it."
She opened my car door and pulled me out roughly.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked, tears running down my face.
"Because you have something that belongs to me," Sheila said.
"I don't have anything! You took everything away from me!"
"Not everything," Sheila said. "You still have your name. Your character. Your right to exist."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Sheila said, "that as long as Amara Kingston is living, people might ask questions. People might wonder what really happened to your parents. People might try to help you get your life back."
"So you're going to kill me?" I asked.
"Kill you?" Sheila laughed. "Oh, sweetie, that would be too easy. I'm going to do something much worse."
She nodded to Jayden, who grabbed my arms from behind.
"I'm going to make you disappear," Sheila continued. "I'm going to make everyone think you died in sadness after losing your parents. But really, you'll be locked up in places where no one will ever find you."
"For how long?" I breathed.
"Forever," Sheila said. "Or until you go completely crazy. Whichever comes first."
They started pulling me toward the warehouse. I fought as hard as I could, but Jayden was too strong.
Just as they reached the warehouse door, we heard the sound of cars approaching fast.
"Who is that?" Sheila demanded.
Three black cars pulled up, and guys in suits got out. But these weren't Crain's guys. These men looked different. Professional. Official.
The leader walked over to us.
"Miss Kingston," he said politely. "My name is Agent Thompson with the FBI. You're safe now."
"FBI?" Sheila's face went white. "What are you doing here?"
"We're here because someone reported that you were planning to kidnap Miss Kingston," Agent Thompson said.
"Who reported us?" Jayden asked.
Agent Thompson smiled.
"Her father," he said.
"Her father is dead!" Sheila screamed.
"Actually," a familiar voice said from behind the agents, "I'm very much alive."
I turned around and saw the impossible.
My dad was walking toward us.
My dead father was living.