I deleted the message the second it went through.
Be careful. Don't come back here. Not now.
My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment longer, my pulse drumming in my ears as if the phone itself might betray me. The walls felt closer than they had ever been. The windows, too many. Too exposed. Too quiet.
I locked the screen and slipped the phone into my pocket, forcing myself to breathe.
Whatever illusion of safety I had left inside this house was gone.
If Amanda thought she was invisible here, she was wrong. Someone always knew. Someone always watched. And even if they didn't recognize her face yet, others would. People talked. People remembered. Especially in an estate where death had learned to wear silence like perfume.
That was why we couldn't meet here again.
Not ever.
We agreed to meet the following day.
Not at the estate. Not near it. Not even close enough for coincidence.
The hotel Amanda chose sat awkwardly between two major roads in the heart of the city, busy enough to blend into noise, obscure enough to be forgotten. One of those places you wouldn't find unless you were deliberately looking for it.
I left early.
Too early.
The sky was still undecided, pale and unsettled, like it hadn't chosen whether to be day or night yet. I pulled out of the driveway slowly, my eyes drifting instinctively to the Alexanders' house.
The curtains were drawn.
That meant nothing.
It also meant everything.
I drove.
Ten minutes in, I felt it.
That prickle at the base of my neck. The quiet certainty that I wasn't alone.
I glanced into my rearview mirror.
A black sedan.
Not close. Not obvious. Just… there.
I told myself not to panic. The city was waking up. People went to work. Cars followed cars. This didn't mean,
The sedan changed lanes when I did.
I turned left at the next junction.
So did it.
My grip tightened around the steering wheel.
Don't react, I told myself. Don't confirm anything.
I drove straight for another five minutes, then abruptly turned into a narrow street lined with old shops and broken signboards. I slowed, pretending to check directions on my phone.
The sedan slowed too.
That was when my heart dropped.
I pulled out again, forcing myself not to speed. Another turn. Then another. I passed a fuel station, circled a block, merged back onto the main road.
The sedan stayed with me.
My mouth went dry.
By the time I finally reached the hotel, my nerves were stretched so thin I felt like glass. I parked underground, waited a full minute before stepping out, and scanned the space like a hunted animal.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No shadows.
But I knew better now than to trust absence.
Amanda was already there.
She sat at the far end of the lounge, back straight, fingers wrapped tightly around a cup of coffee she wasn't drinking. Her eyes lifted the moment she saw me, relief flickering across her face before she masked it.
"You're late," she said softly.
"I was followed."
Her jaw tightened. "Did they see you come in?"
"I don't think so." I lowered myself into the chair opposite her. "But they're watching. The estate… it's not just cameras. It's people. Security. Staff. Neighbors. Everyone reports to someone."
She exhaled slowly. "I thought so."
Before I could ask what she meant, I noticed the man standing a few steps away from us.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Bald head catching the overhead light. His face was sharp, unreadable, eyes constantly moving as though he was counting exits.
I stiffened.
Amanda followed my gaze. "Relax," she said. "He's with me."
"With you how?"
She hesitated for half a second, then gestured him closer. "This is Pepe."
He nodded once. "Ma'am."
I leaned back slightly. "Why is there a stranger in this conversation?"
"Because," Amanda said carefully, "we need one."
I didn't respond immediately. My instincts were screaming, my trust already worn thin by too many half-truths and smiling liars. "You didn't mention bringing anyone."
"I didn't know if I could trust you yet," she replied honestly.
That surprised me.
"And now you do?" I asked.
She met my eyes. "You live in my sister's house."
Silence stretched between us.
Pepe cleared his throat. "I'll be nearby," he said quietly, stepping away but not leaving.
I watched him go, then turned back to Amanda. "You said he works for you."
"He does," she said. "Information. Surveillance. Digital tracking. Things I can't do alone."
I swallowed. "Fine. Talk."
I leaned forward, lowering my voice. "You said you've been communicating with your sister for three months."
"Yes."
"How?"
"Texting. Chats. Messages."
"No calls?"
Her brows furrowed, as if she hadn't asked herself that question until now. "No. Not once."
"Not even voice notes?"
She shook her head slowly. "Whenever I tried to call, she didn't pick. She'd text back later. Always had an excuse."
"What kind of excuse?"
Amanda's lips pressed together. "Painting. Meetings. Tired. Busy."
My stomach twisted.
"And you didn't find that strange?"
She looked away. "At first, no. She loved her space. But now…" Her voice faltered. "Now that I think about it, Jessica loved talking. She'd talk for hours. Even when she was exhausted."
I nodded. "What about social media?"
"It's active," she said. "Her page. Paintings. Old videos. Even recent uploads."
"That doesn't mean she's alive," I said quietly.
Amanda's eyes glistened. "I know."
I reached across the table, hesitated, then placed my hand over hers. She didn't pull away.
"Someone has her phone," I said. "Her accounts. They're keeping her alive digitally so no one asks questions."
"And Daniel?" she whispered. "My brother-in-law?"
"Same thing," I said. "Same silence."
Her fingers trembled beneath mine.
"They're hiding deaths," she said hollowly. "Like it's nothing."
"They've done it before," I replied. "They'll do it again."
We decided to test it.
Amanda pulled out her phone, hands shaking slightly as she opened the chat thread.
"I'll message her," she said. "Tell her I'm coming home."
"Don't say home," I warned. "Say you want to see her."
She typed.
I'm coming to town. I want to see you.
Seconds passed.
Then a reply.
That's great. Daniel and I are out of the estate right now. Business meetings. Let's meet somewhere neutral.
Amanda looked up at me, confusion mixing with hope. "She wants to meet."
"Or whoever has the phone does," I said.
Another message came through.
There's a restaurant near the city square. Let's meet there.
My chest tightened.
"She chose a public place," I murmured. "Open. Crowded."
"She wouldn't risk that if she wasn't sure," Amanda said.
"Or she thinks you won't come alone."
I leaned back. "You go. I'll watch."
The restaurant buzzed with life.
Laughter. Cutlery. Music.
Amanda took a seat near the entrance, her posture tense but composed. I stayed across the street, partially hidden behind a café window, my eyes locked on the door.
Minutes stretched into an hour.
Then two.
Amanda checked her phone repeatedly. No messages.
I scanned faces. Couples. Friends. Strangers.
No Jessica.
No Daniel.
Four hours later, Amanda stood, frustration etched into every line of her body. She texted the number again.
No response.
We left separately.
A few hours later, her phone buzzed.
I'm so sorry. Something came up. Next time, I promise.
Amanda stared at the screen, jaw clenched. "They're playing with me."
"Yes," I said. "And they know you're getting close."
Back at the hotel, Pepe returned.
"I checked the restaurant cameras," he said. "There was a man. Black clothes. Hoodie. Came in. Left without ordering."
"Did you get his face?" I asked.
"Partially. Not enough."
I sighed, exhaustion settling into my bones.
"We need the phone," I said. "Only the phone gives us time stamps. Locations."
Amanda nodded slowly. "Then we bait them."
She hesitated. "Jade… I need to tell you something."
I looked up.
"I'm a lawyer."
The words didn't register at first.
"You're what?"
"I practiced for years," she said. "I left the bar after… family issues."
My heart skipped. "You're serious?"
"Yes." Her gaze hardened. "And I'll represent your husband."
Emotion slammed into me so fast I had to look away.
"You'd do that?" I whispered.
"I need the truth," she said. "And so do you."
My phone buzzed.
The prosecutor.
Court date set.
I closed my eyes.
"We don't have evidence," I said hoarsely.
"Then we find it," Amanda replied. "Before time runs out."
I nodded, fear and determination colliding in my chest.
Somewhere out there, someone was watching.
And this time,
We were watching back.