The moment Harry stops, three men step from the shadows, their guns slung over their shoulders, faces half-hidden by beanies.
One bangs twice on the roof. “Out.”
My stomach pitches, but I force my legs to move. The cold steals my breath as it hits me full in the face.
Two of the men flank me, steering me toward the door, while the third remains outside. Harry walks behind us, gun visible but lowered.
The cabin door opens.
Clarissa.
Perfect makeup, immaculate hair, silk blouse the color of ice. Beauty sharp enough to draw blood.
“Cassadie,” she croons. “Darling. You look well.”
“It’s Sadie now,” I say through gritted teeth, because anything louder will come out as a scream.
She waves a dismissive hand. “Come in. We have much to discuss.”
My legs obey before my brain catches up, pure terror driving me forward.
Inside, the heat hits like a slap. The room smells of cedar and expensive perfume. A fire crackles in a stone hearth. More men line the walls.
Clarissa settles into a high-backed chair like a queen preparing a speech.
I remain standing.
She sighs, almost disappointed. “You were so close to being rid of me, Sadie. If only you didn’t have such a weakness for animals in need.”
I open my mouth, but no sound comes.
“Harry,” she says. “Unzip her coat.”
“I can do it myself,” I snap.
Harry hesitates. Clarissa lifts an eyebrow, but she lets it pass.
“You have something I need,” she says. “The numbers your father whispered as he died.”
My pulse lurches. “You mean the numbers you poisoned him for?”
Silence drops like a blade.
Clarissa rises slowly, like a snake uncoiling before a strike. She laughs, soft and elegant, a sound that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, “I didn’t poison your father.”
Her fingers trail along the back of the chair she was sitting in, nails clicking against the wood. Each tap strikes directly against my sternum.
“I just helped the process along.”
Cold ripples through me. Somewhere behind me, Harry’s boot scuffs against the floor.
She steps closer. “Your father was careless about his health, his business… and you.”
I meet her eyes and hold them, even as my fingers curl at my sides. “Why kill him? Why take everything?”
Something fractures behind her practiced expression—a flash of teeth, a flicker in her eyes like a match struck in the dark. Then the mask slides back into place, smooth and cold as marble.
