Hours ticked away, blurring into a haze of determination and caffeine. My eyes grew heavy, but surrender wasn't an option.
"Enough," I finally conceded, muscles protesting as I stood. Tomorrow would bring new resolve. I shuffled the evidence into neat stacks and closed my computer, where a bunch of emails from Matt were the last things I had opened. I was proud of us working as a team again. He had helped me get clarity about some things that would be brought into daylight in the morning.
In the bathroom, the mirror held a reflection tinged with fatigue. Green eyes met mine, more resolute than ever.
"You've got this," I told the woman staring back at me. "Face down the darkness."
A splash of cold water, and the face looking back seemed less weary, more fierce. My red hair lay damp against my forehead. I turned away, leaving my reflection to its silent vigil.
The bedroom was a haven of soft sheets and promises of sleep. I slipped under the covers, the fabric cool against skin that still remembered the heat of Florida’s sun. My mind raced, weaving through the labyrinth of deceit and danger, but my heart… my heart was steady.
Sleep reached for me, a gentle tide pulling at the edges of consciousness. And as I drifted off, I clung to the lifeline of that purpose, the certainty that I was the key to unlocking the truth.
Chapter 23
THEN:
Angela's gazeclung to the scene unfolding beyond the sheer curtains of the living room window. Will, her husband, stood just outside, his silhouette casting a long shadow across the freshly cut grass. They had made up from their last fight. It had been good for a while, but Angela kept her eyes open. Her friend Sam told her to look for someone closer to home instead of dating apps and social media. Now, she was staring at precisely that—someone very close to her home… too close. Carol, their neighbor, approached Will with a stride that suggested a casual encounter, but Angela’s intuition prickled with unease.
"Hey, Will!" Carol's voice was light and airy.
"Carol, nice to see you," Will replied, his tone friendly yet reserved.
Angela watched, her heart drumming as Carol tilted her head back, laughter spilling from her lips at something Will had said. She stepped closer to him, her body language open and inviting.
Too darn inviting.
The sun glinted off Carol's auburn hair, igniting it like autumn leaves in an October sun. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Will's arm in a touch that lingered. It was subtle, perhaps meaningless to an unobservant eye. But Angela saw. She felt each feather-light contact like a weight dropping into her stomach.
"Really?" Carol said, her hand resting a beat too long on his bicep. "That's hilarious."
Angela's breath caught. The air in the room seemed too thin, her fingers tightening on the windowsill’s edge. Will chuckled, shifting his weight, but he did not step back. Not immediately.
Carol leaned in, her shoulder nearly brushing against Will's. Her smile was wide, teeth gleaming white against her red lipstick. Her voice dipped lower, words lost to Angela, but the message was clear.
Intimate. Private.
What the heck? Right in front of me?
Angela's pulse pounded in her ears, every flirtatious gesture by Carol amplifying the cacophony of suspicion in her mind. The touching. The leaning. The proximity that screamed more than neighborly friendliness.
Will finally put a subtle space between them, a gentle barrier. Yet Carol's eyes locked onto his, unyielding, conveying a silent challenge that tore through Angela's composure. Angela's throat tightened, each breath a battle as she fought the urge to shatter the glassy barrier that kept her a silent spectator to this unfolding play of potential betrayal.
The door slammed behind her, and the sound was a sharp crack that split the air. Angela's heart thundered against her ribs as she stalked across the lawn, eyes locked on the two figures entwined in conversation. Her shadow stretched long and angry over the manicured grass.
"Carol!" The name erupted from her lips, a bullet shot from a gun.
Carol turned, surprise etching her features for a fleeting second before she schooled her face into a mask of innocence. Will swiveled, his expression one of confusion that shifted quickly to concern.
"Angela, what?—?"
"Stay away from him," Angela spat, cutting through Will's words like a knife slicing silk. She was close now—too close, her finger jabbing toward Carol's chest with an accusing zeal.
"Trying to steal my husband?" Her voice climbed, a crescendo of fury. "Right in front of me?"
"Angela, please—" Will reached out, but she pulled away.
"Will, talk some sense into her; she’s out of control," Carol said, but Angela barely registered the plea. Her focus narrowed to the woman before her, the perceived threat that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.
