She believes it.
She reaches for the keyboard and starts to type:Dad? Is it y?—
"Cut the line," I bark at Ivan. "Don’t let her reply."
"I’m trying!" Ivan hits a key. "I can't stop the incoming message, but I can kill the local connection before her reply goes out."
On the screen, Helena hits enter. An error message flashes:CONNECTION FAILED.
She tries again like it’s a glitch. She doesn't know I’m the ghost in the machine, silencing her.
She stares at the message from her father one last time, memorizing it. Then, the window vanishes. Auto-deleted from the sender's end. It was a one-way drop. A command, not a conversation.
She sits back, trembling, and looks at the clock on her wall.
Midnight.
Then, she moves, grabbing the landline receiver she dropped. Her fingers fly across the keypad, dialing a number I know by heart. Her father’s personal cell.
She presses the phone to her ear, eyes squeezed shut, praying for a connection.
Silence.
Then, a harsh, automated voice echoes in her ear and through my speakers.
"Number not authorized."
She slams the phone down in frustration before trying again. This time, she dials 9-1-1.
"Number not authorized."
She drops the receiver. It dangles by the cord, swinging back and forth like a pendulum.
The fog of illusion has lifted. She realizes the truth. I haven’t given her a phone. I’ve given her a leash.
"She’s trying to verify the source," Ivan notes. "Blocked."
"Good."
I turn away from the screen, my mind racing.
"It wasn't a hack," I say, pacing the small room. "Arthur gave them the Founder's Key. He handed it to Moretti."
"Maybe he hired them?" he suggests. "Maybe he went to Moretti for help?"
"He’s a prisoner in his own home," I snap. "I have three guards stationed at his estate. He can't take a piss without me knowing. He’s secure."
I pull out my phone and dial the lead guard at the Blackwood Estate.
It rings and rings.
Voicemail.
I call the second guard.
Voicemail.
A cold feeling settles in my gut.
