I pull out my phone and open my bank account app again, just to make sure I didn't imagine it. But no, it's still there. The zero balances. The lack of red numbers and past-due notices.
Real freedom looks a lot like a trap.
I could run. Could go back to Boston right now. But back to what? My cramped studio apartment with the water-stained ceiling? Jobs that I hate, which barely pay rent? Writing stories at midnight because it's the only time I have energy?
That life is still there, waiting for me. But it feels different now. Smaller. Like I've seen something I can't unsee, and going back means accepting that this is all I'll ever have.
My phone rings, startling me. Chloe's name flashes across the screen.
I answer on the second ring. "Hey."
"Oh thank God." Chloe's voice is sharp with relief. "You didn't text me last night. I've been freaking out. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"That's not the same as okay. What happened? Did you meet him?"
I lean back against the headboard and close my eyes. "His name is Phoenix Crawford. He's..." I pause, not sure how to finish that sentence. "He's complicated."
There's a beat of silence. Then Chloe says, "Phoenix Crawford? As in Crawford Ventures?"
"You know him?"
"I knowofhim. Jade, he's kind of a big deal in the tech investment world. His firm has stakes in like half the major AI startups in Silicon Valley. He's been on the cover of Forbes." She pauses. "How do you know Phoenix Crawford?"
"He's the one who sent the check. P.C. That’s him."
"Holy shit." I can hear her moving around, probably pacing her apartment the way she does when she's processing information. "Okay. Okay. So a tech billionaire paid off your debt and flew you to California. Why?"
"He says he wanted to meet me. To give me freedom."
"And what do you think?"
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. "I think he's been watching me. He knows things he shouldn't know. And last night at dinner, he just... admitted it. Like it was normal."
"That's creepy."
"I know."
"But you're still there."
"I'm packing right now."
"Are you actually going to leave, though?"
The question hangs in the air. I look at my suitcase, at the cottage around me, at the ocean visible through the windows.
"I don't know," I admit.
"Jade." Chloe's voice softens. "Look him up. Right now. Google Phoenix Crawford and tell me what you see."
I pull the phone away from my ear and open a browser, typing his name with one hand. The results load immediately.
Forbes profile. Business articles. Society page mentions. And photos. So many photos.
Phoenix at a charity gala with a blonde woman in a gold dress who I vaguely recognize as an actress. Phoenix on a yacht in what the caption says is the Mediterranean, his arm around a different woman, this one a model I've definitely seen in magazines. Phoenix at a film premiere with yet another stunning woman on his arm.
I scroll through image after image. Beautiful women in fancy dresses. Parties on beaches. Restaurants where the cheapest entree probably costs more than my monthly rent.
