LOGINSELENE'S POV"Why are you here this morning?" I asked.Ruth turned to me. The question seemed to adjust her, pulling her back from the specific notice of the conversation with Adrian and Ava into a more demanding practical."Mr. Fitch called me four days ago," she began with shaky voice. "He told me the situation had become complicated. That there were people investigating the accident, and have now gotten close to the original documentation." She looked at the laptops. "He asked me to transfer specific files to a remote server and then wipe the local copies.” Her gaze moved from the laptop to her hands. “He pleaded that that was the last request he would ever ask of me.""And you agreed," I said solemnly."I don’t think I had a choice.""You had a choice four years ago," Ava said quietly. "And you made it then."Ruth didn't respond to that. She kept staring between her hand and the floor.The progress bar reached eighty-four percent.At this point, I was losing my patience. I dialed
SELENE'S POVThe ground floor was a single open room.Bare walls, concrete floor, and the smell of a space used for function rather than occupation.Dust and electronics and the faint chemical smell of equipment that had been running for hours. A folding table along the far wall held two laptops, both open and active, their screens casting the only light in the room beyond the early morning sunlight filtering through the frosted window.And at the table, her back to us, sat Ruth Callway.She looked older than the last time I saw her, of course, that was my days of being a devoted wife of Adrian Laurent. She looked smaller somehow, or perhaps that was simply the difference between a woman who worked in a large house where she managed the estate’s housekeep and a woman hunched over a laptop in a room she clearly hadn't expected to be interrupted in.She heard us the moment the door opened and turned.I watched her face move through several things in rapid succession: alarm, recognition
ADRIAN’S POVAva closed the notebook and looked at the building across the street."The envelope Ruth Callway handed to the van driver. I described it as an envelope but I was looking at it from a far distance through a dry cleaner's window." She paused. "It could have been a drive or hard case for a storage device." She looked at me directly. "If Damien is moving physical documentation, that's one problem. If he's moving digital records, the footprint is different and the timeline for making those records unrecoverable is considerably shorter."The distinction mattered enormously and I had not been thinking about it clearly enough.Physical documentation; files, paper records, printed transaction histories, could be destroyed but the process takes time and could leave traces. Shredding equipment, incineration, secure disposal. Each method had its own signature.Digital records were different. A drive could be formatted, encrypted beyond recovery or transmitted to an offshore server
SELENE’S POV"We need to move," I said. "If Fitch is inside that building and Ruth Callway just handed whatever we’re yet to discover to the van driver, they're close to completing whatever they came here to do. Once those vans leave, whatever documentation they're carrying becomes significantly harder to recover.""So, what do we do?" Ava asked.I looked at the corner one more time. Then I pulled out my phone and called Adrian.He answered before the first ring completed."I need you back on Stead Street," I said. "Number forty-seven. And I need Floyd Quake's team in position around the loading bay next door within ten minutes.""What happened?""We found Ruth Callway."The line went silent."Which Ruth Callway?" he asked. Then, he picked.“Ruth Callway, my former housekeeper?”"Exactly." I confirmed. "And I believe the person who told Damien's driver which road Serena would be on the night of the accident."The silence that followed lasted considerably longer than the ones before it
SELENE'S POVWe stood around the corner from number forty-seven while Ava told me what she had seen.She was precise about all the details,the frosted window with the low light behind it, the keypad entry system too new for the building's age, the camera angle, the unmarked vans in the loading bay next door. She said it in a particular sequential order of someone who had learned that detail mattered more than interpretation and that the two things needed to stay separate until you had enough of the first to justify the second.I said nothing and only listened until she finished."The vans seems to concern me more than the building," I said."Why?""Because Gerald Fitch visited a storage unit in the east dock district three nights ago at the early hours of the morning," I said. "It was a unit connected to Redwater Holdings." I continued. "If he was moving documentation out of that unit, those vans are the most likely means of transport."Ava looked at the corner of the building we we
AVA'S POVI found the address three days ago, more by luck.It was through a mere conversation in a coffee shop I had stopped at to get a cup of latte. A woman whom I later knew as Petra, who had worked as a filing clerk for the city's regulatory office for twenty-two years had mentioned it in passing to a man she was talking to over coffee, that she remembered a property transfer connected to Redwater Holdings, she said it happened twice."Twice?" I asked before I could control myself.Petra looked at me in amazement, at the stranger suddenly meddling in her talk. Then, she nodded in affirmation."First time was standard. It was registered and filed correctly." Petra said. "Second time was three weeks later. Someone wanted the original registration amended. The address was changed on the principal correspondence record." She frowned slightly at the memory. "Which was unusual because you don’t amend correspondence addresses on a company registration without a reason. The company was
Serena’s POV“You were not supposed to wake up this soon.”The voice came before my eyes could even fully opened. Slowly, I blinked through the haze in my head.White ceiling, soft golden lighting. This is definitely not a hospital.I tried to move and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain cut thr
ADRIAN’s POVFour years ago, Damien had stood in a conference room and listened to a recording of a voice coordinating the accident that unalived Serena and my son and had said he recognized the voice. And then changed and said he was mistaken.And for four years while I buried my wife, struggled w
ADRIAN’s POVThe Hargrove Financial Summit happened once a year and attendance was never optional for anyone serious about remaining relevant in this city’s elite circle. Old money, new money, political connections and corporate ambitions all gathered inside one building for an evening that looked
Serena’s POV“My wife did not deserve what happened to her.” Adrian’s voice filled the room quietly from the television screen. I sat frozen at the edge of the bed. The cameras flashed endlessly around him while reporters shouted questions from every direction, but Adrian barely reacted. He stood







