CHAPTER 78 — SECRETS DO NOT STAY BURIED
Elena did not sleep.
The night passed in fragments—measured breaths, distant footsteps in the halls, the faint hum of security systems cycling through their routines. She lay on her side, eyes open, staring into the darkness as though it might blink first.
It didn't.
The envelope rested on the desk beside the bed, positioned with deliberate care, its pale surface almost luminous in the low light. She had not opened it again. She didn't need to. The image inside had already etched itself into her mind with brutal clarity.
Her father's younger face.
The woman beside him—unfamiliar, sharp-eyed, caught mid-motion as though the camera had stolen something she hadn't meant to give.
And the red line.
A single stroke, bold and merciless, slashed across the woman's image like a verdict passed without trial.
Some debts aren't yours.
The message wasn't a threat. Not directly.
It was a reminder.
