I know every single one of his passwords.
I try again.
Still wrong.
I set the laptop down and breathe. Then I try a second option — one I almost forgot.
It works.
The screen opens, and I exhale. But the relief dissolves immediately. The desktop is empty. Entirely empty, except for a single, solitary file with a name that's pure gibberish. I move the cursor toward it, hesitate, and click.
The laptop shuts itself down.
The screen goes black and restarts.
I stare at it. I try again. The same file. This time, an error message pops up. I try to navigate through folders, settings, anything — all empty, all scrubbed clean, as if everything was erased and only that one thorn of a file was left behind on purpose.
I click it one more time.
A window appears.
Accept or Deny.
What the hell?
Before I can move, it disappears. Then reappears. My pulse hammers.
My phone chimes.
Unknown number.
I unlock it with shaking hands and read:
Accept the call.
My breath catches. I drop the phone onto the desk and struggle to pull air into my lungs. I stare at the laptop screen. That's when I notice the tiny light at the top –– the camera dot.
Twinkling.
My skin crawls.
Another text.
Accept the call, Adela.
Chapter 5: Beckett
GirlslikeAdelaKalkaskadon't know what to do when control slips through their fingers. They've never had to earn anything, especially safety.
I breathe softly into the black mask, staring at the screen, and wait.
"Come on," Silas whispers. "Take the fucking bait."
I'm sitting in the corner of my room, wearing all black, with a black sheet pinned to the wall. No identifying features. No face. Nothing she can trace back to a person, let alone a name.
"She'll accept it," I say quietly. "They always do."
Silas glances at me. "You sound sure."
