LOGINNana guided Emily to the couch, sitting her down gently, rubbing slow circles on her back."Breathe, Emily," Nana said softly, her own voice trembling with worry. "Just breathe for me.""I can't," Emily sobbed, her whole body curling in on itself. "Nana, I can't, I keep seeing her. In that trunk. Her face was so still. What if she can't breathe in there? What if he's already,""Don't," Nana said firmly, though tears were welling in her own eyes now. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Jems is strong. She's a fighter. You raised a fighter.""What if being a fighter isn't enough?" Emily cried, burying her face in her hands. "What if it doesn't matter how strong she is against a man like that?"Nana pulled her into a tight embrace, rocking her gently the way she used to when Emily was a little girl."Cry it out," Nana whispered. "Let it out, baby. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."But nothing helped. Emily's sobs only grew louder, more desperate, her whole body shaking violently
It was six thirty in the morning when Emily's phone started ringing.She groaned, still half-buried in sleep, reaching blindly for the device on her nightstand. She'd barely slept, maybe two hours total, her mind replaying Miller's visit over and over, the training discussion, and the worry that had settled into her bones since the moment Jems left for France.She answered without looking at the caller ID."Hello?" she mumbled."Emily Dawson," a voice said, smooth and unhurried. "I hope I didn't wake you up."Emily's entire body went rigid.She knew that voice. She'd heard it once before in the hallway of the hospital, low and menacing, the kind of voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She would know it anywhere. She would know it in her nightmares.Don Emilio."Wh, what do you want?" she cried out, sitting bolt upright, her hand shaking so badly she nearly dropped the phone."Just wanted to let you know," he said, his tone almost pleasant, almost bored, "I won t
Miller didn't go home that night.He drove straight back to the station, his hands still gripping the wheel the same way they had outside the Thompson house, "After everything, he succeeded in taking her," he said in a low voice.He couldn't go to the Dawson mansion, not tonight. It was already past one in the morning, and there was no version of this conversation that got easier by having it in the dark, half,asleep, with nothing concrete to offer them but bad news. He would go first thing in the morning. He would tell Richard first, God help him, he'd have to look that man in the eye and tell him his daughter was gone, and then the two of them would go to Emily together. She deserved better than a phone call. She deserved better than any of this, honestly, but that wasn't a luxury any of them had right now.The station was quiet when he walked in. His team, the handful of officers he'd pulled onto this specific thread of the investigation, were still at their desks. Their coffee had
Captain Miller sat in his car outside the Thompson house, engine off, staring at the lit windows for a moment.Before going into their house, he remembered Derick, because he needed to let Derick know.He pulled out his phone and dialed Derick.It rang twice before Derick picked up."Miller? What's going on?""I need to tell you something," Miller said. "And I need you to stay calm when I do."A pause. "What happened?""It's Jems. She was taken. Don Emilio's men attacked the estate in France. Christopher and Ethan are both in the hospital with gunshot wounds. She's gone, Derick.""What?? How?? How did they even find her??""She went to France in disguise. Her and Ethan and Christopher, living under new identities. But somehow the address was leaked and they went straight to her. I know you're no longer connected to this case officially, but I felt like you needed to know."The line went quiet for a moment.Then Derick said, "How many hours has it been?""Six hours and twenty-five minu
Ethan had fought until his body simply refused to cooperate anymore. Even with a bullet in his arm, even pinned to the floor by men twice his size, he'd kept fighting, kept reaching for Jems, kept screaming her name. But the blood loss had been relentless, draining his strength with every passing second until his vision darkened and his body went limp against his will.Christopher had been worse. Already compromised from his previous injuries, the bullet to his thigh had been devastating. He'd dragged himself halfway up the staircase before his body gave out completely, leaving a trail of blood on the marble steps behind him.When backup finally arrived, French police units responding to Captain Miller's frantic calls, sirens wailing as they flooded the estate, they found the place devastated. Windows shattered. Doors hanging off hinges. Blood on the floors, the walls, the stairs. The officers who'd been stationed around the perimeter lay wounded, some dead.And Don Emilio's men were
The afternoon sun warmed the back garden of Château Belle-Vue, and for the first time in days, Jems was doing something outdoors. She knelt in the soft soil, carefully patting earth around a tomato seedling, her gloved hands stained with dirt. After being cooped up inside for what felt like forever, the simple act of gardening felt like freedom."Ethan," she called out, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist, "where's the water? I'm so thirsty.""Coming, love," he answered, emerging from the kitchen door with two bottles of cold water.Christopher stood a few feet away, his arm still in a sling from his injuries, but alert as ever, scanning the property every second."Jems, stop calling him Ethan," Christopher said, for what felt like the tenth time that day. "It's Gerald. You need to get used to it.""Sorry," Jems said, giving a small, sheepish bow. "I'll try harder."Ethan laughed, handing her a water bottle and pressing a quick kiss to her dirt-smudged cheek. "I thin
7:00 AM, THE MORNING AFTERMira stared at her phone, watching the minutes tick by with increasing dread. The burner phone sat on her nightstand like a coiled snake, silent but threatening.She hadn’t slept at all. How could she? Jems was gone, on a plane to France by now, safe and unreachable. Whic
Then subtle contouring was added to make her features more masculine, such as a sharper jaw and a stronger brow. A carefully applied fake mustache looked surprisingly real. Blue contact lenses changed her hazel eyes to sky blue, and finally, a complete boy's outfit was added, consisting of designer
Richard watched Emily pace back and forth in the hospital hallway, her hands clenched into fists, her jaw tight with tension. He'd seen her stressed before, as the past few months had been nothing but stress, but this was different. This was the kind of fear that made people do desperate things."E
"I... I'd have to ask my mom," she said."Of course," Ethan said. "Call her right now. I'll give you privacy."He stepped out of the room, and Jems pulled out her phone with shaking hands. She called Emily, who answered on the second ring."Hey, baby. Everything okay?""Yeah, Mom, everything's fine







