For several seconds after Sadie placed the silver star in Cameron Hale’s palm, no one moved.
Not me.
Not the guards.
Not even Cameron.
The city glittered beyond the penthouse windows, forty floors below us, but inside that room there was only silence and the faint sound of Sadie humming to herself.
Cameron stared at the sticker as though it were something far more dangerous than a weapon.
Then he closed his fingers around it.
“Lena.”
My stomach tightened at the sound of my name.
“Yes, Mr.
Hale?”
“Take Sadie downstairs.”
I immediately reached for my daughter.
Sadie frowned.
“But I didn’t finish my picture.”
“You can finish it later,” I whispered.
She looked at Cameron.
“Are you still sad?”
One of the guards coughed awkwardly.
Cameron’s expression barely changed.
“A little.”
Sadie considered that.
Then she nodded with the grave approval of a doctor discussing a patient.
“Okay.
Keep the star.”
“I will.”
I took her hand and hurried toward the door.
“Lena.”
I stopped.
Cameron was no longer looking at Sadie.
He was looking at me.
“Come back when she’s settled.”
My pulse jumped.
“Yes, sir.”
The elevator ride downstairs felt endless.
Sadie swung my hand between us.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“I like Mr.
Cameron.”
“He’s Mr.
Hale.”
“He said I could call him Cameron.”
Of course he had.
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Sweetheart, you cannot wander into his office again.”
“But the door was open.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“He looked lonely.”
“That doesn’t matter either.”
Sadie tilted her head.
“Why?”
Because men like Cameron Hale did not need three-year-old girls wandering into rooms where guns sat underneath jackets and conversations decided who lived long enough to see morning.
Because I had spent eleven months working in his home while carefully pretending I didn’t notice things.
Men arriving after midnight.
Bloody shirts disappearing into laundry bags.
Cameron standing alone on the balcony at four in the morning with a glass of untouched whiskey.
Names mentioned once and never again.
I knelt in front of Sadie.
“Because sometimes grown-ups have rules we have to follow, even when we don’t understand them.”
She thought about that.
“Is Cameron a bad man?”
My breath caught.
“Why would you ask that?”
“The man with the scar said bad men were coming.”
I stared at her.
“What man with the scar?”
Sadie pointed upward.
“The one in Cameron’s room.”
There had been four guards upstairs.
Two near the windows.
One beside the door.
And Dominic Russo, Cameron’s second-in-command.
Dominic had a thin scar beneath his left eye.
I forced my voice to stay calm.
“What exactly did he say?”
Sadie shrugged.
“He was talking when I went inside.
He said, ‘If they find out about the girl, bad men will come.’”
My blood turned cold.
“The girl?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did he say your name?”
“No.”
She skipped toward the kitchen.
“I want apple juice.”
I stood there for a moment, suddenly unable to breathe.
Then I told Maria, the cook, to watch Sadie.
And I went back upstairs.
Cameron was alone when I entered.
The guards were gone.
The silver star lay on his desk.
Next to it sat the photograph Sadie had noticed.
His daughter.
Four years old.
Brown eyes.
Dark hair.
Missing front tooth.
I had cleaned that photograph dozens of times.
Cameron rarely touched it.
Tonight, his thumb moved slowly across the glass.
“What was her name?”
I asked before I could stop myself.
His gaze lifted.
I immediately regretted speaking.
“Emily.”
The name came softly.
I looked at the little girl again.
“She was beautiful.”
“She was everything.”
There was no emotion in his tone.
That made the words worse.
Cameron set the photograph down.
“My daughter hated peas.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“She would hide them beneath her potatoes and insist the plate was empty.”
A ghost of something crossed his face.
“She loved yellow dresses.
Dinosaurs.
Terrible knock-knock jokes.”
I said nothing.
“She was afraid of thunder.”
His eyes returned to the photograph.
“Whenever there was a storm, she crawled into my bed.”
I swallowed.
“What happened?”
The softness vanished.
Cameron leaned back.
“Why did you bring Sadie here today?”
I stiffened.
“Her babysitter canceled.”
“You have no family?”
“My mother died two years ago.”
“Her father?”
The question struck harder.
“He isn’t involved.”
Cameron watched me.
“He left?”
“Yes.”
That was easier than the truth.
Much easier.
He tapped one finger against the desk.
“You understand what I do.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I understand enough.”
“Then you understand why children are forbidden here.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you brought yours.”
“I had nowhere else to take her.”
“You could have stayed home.”
“I need this job.”
Something about that answer seemed to interest him.
“You’ve worked for me eleven months.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never stolen.”
“No.”
“Never asked questions.”
“No.”
“Never repeated anything you heard.”
“No.”
“And until today, I knew almost nothing about your personal life.”
“That was intentional.”
Cameron’s mouth almost curved.
“Smart.”
He looked again at the silver star.
Then his voice changed.
“Did Sadie know about Emily?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“Only that the photograph was important.”
“You never asked the staff?”
“I learned quickly that questions aren’t encouraged here.”
“They aren’t.”
His eyes hardened.
“Yet your daughter asked me almost the exact words Emily said the last morning I saw her.”
A chill crawled across my arms.
“I know.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
He stood.
“Children repeat things.”
“She couldn’t have heard it from me.”
“Maybe someone else—”
“No one else heard Emily say it.”
That stopped me.
Cameron moved toward the window.
“It happened in her bedroom.”
His reflection hovered against Manhattan’s lights.
“I was leaving early.
She woke up before I did.
She came running down the hallway wearing pajamas covered in stars.”
My gaze fell involuntarily toward the sticker.
Cameron noticed.
“So did I.”
He reached into his pocket and removed the silver star.
“She asked if she could kiss me.”
His voice had become distant.
“I told her I was late.”
My heart tightened.
“She asked again.”
He swallowed.
“So I crouched down and let her kiss my cheek.”
“What happened afterward?”
“I left.”
He stared out at the city.
“Three hours later, my wife took Emily to preschool.”
His jaw tightened.
“They never arrived.”
“What happened?”
“Their car exploded.”
I covered my mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
He turned.
“It wasn’t an accident.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“My enemies wanted me frightened.
They wanted me grieving.
They wanted me reckless.”
His eyes turned merciless.
“They succeeded in two of those things.”
I understood then why people feared Cameron Hale.
Not because he shouted.
Not because he threatened.
Because grief had removed something from him that most human beings needed in order to stop.
“Who did it?”
“Everyone responsible is dead.”
There was no pride in his voice.
Just fact.
Then came a knock.
Dominic entered.
His expression told me something was wrong.
“Boss.”
Cameron looked at him.
“What?”
Dominic glanced at me.
“Now.”
Cameron’s voice turned cold.
“Whatever you have to say, say it.”
Dominic hesitated.
“We found another envelope.”
Cameron went still.
“Where?”
“Lobby desk.”
Dominic placed a black envelope on the table.
“No camera footage.
No fingerprints.”
Cameron opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
He stared at it.
And all the color vanished from his face.
“What is it?”
I whispered.
He handed me the photograph.
My knees nearly gave way.
It was Sadie.
Taken that morning.
She was walking beside me toward Cameron’s building, holding her stuffed rabbit.
Across the bottom of the photograph, someone had written five words.
SHE HAS HER MOTHER’S EYES.
I felt Cameron watching me.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Lena.”
“I said I don’t know!”
My voice cracked.
Cameron picked up the photograph.
“Where is Sadie’s father?”
“I told you—”
“You told me he wasn’t involved.”
His eyes locked onto mine.
“That isn’t the same thing.”
I looked toward the door.
Dominic moved subtly in front of it.
“Please.”
Cameron’s expression changed.
Not kinder.
More dangerous.
“Who is Sadie’s father?”
I had spent three years preparing for that question.
Three years hiding.
Changing apartments.
Changing phone numbers.
Never posting photographs.
Never contacting old friends.
I had taken the housekeeping job because wealthy employers preferred discretion and Cameron Hale’s penthouse had better security than most government buildings.
But perhaps that had been the mistake.
Perhaps I hadn’t hidden inside a fortress.
Perhaps I had walked straight into the center of the war.
“His name was Adrian Vale.”
Dominic cursed.
Cameron’s eyes sharpened.
“Was?”
“He’s dead.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Cameron stared at me.
“Sadie is three.”
“Yes.”
The math landed between us.
Dominic whispered something vicious under his breath.
Cameron’s voice became almost inaudible.
“You were pregnant when Adrian died.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I looked at Dominic.
Then Cameron.
“Someone shot him.”
Cameron’s face hardened.
“Adrian Vale was one of Victor Marconi’s accountants.”
“I know.”
“He laundered millions.”
“I know.”
“He disappeared four years ago after stealing records capable of destroying Marconi’s organization.”
“I know.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Where are those records?”
“I don’t have them.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t!”
“Adrian must’ve given them to you.”
“He gave me nothing!”
Cameron raised one hand.
Dominic stopped.
“Lena,” Cameron said quietly, “why did no one know Adrian had a girlfriend?”
“Because he wanted it that way.”
“Why?”
“He said his work was dangerous.”
“And you stayed?”
“I loved him.”
Cameron’s face revealed nothing.
I closed my eyes.
“There was more.”
“Go on.”
“The night Adrian died, he came to my apartment.”
My voice trembled.
“He was bleeding.”
A memory I had buried returned with perfect cruelty.
Adrian stumbling through the doorway.
Blood soaking his shirt.
His hands shaking as he held my face.
Lena, listen to me.
You need to disappear.
“What did he tell you?”
Cameron asked.
“He said people were coming.”
“Who?”
“He never said.”
“What else?”
“He told me if anyone ever asked about something called Bluebird, I should run.”
Dominic and Cameron exchanged a look.
“What?”
I demanded.
Neither answered.
“What is Bluebird?”
Cameron’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Then answered.
“Hale.”
Silence.
His expression changed.
“How did you get this number?”
Another pause.
Then his eyes moved toward me.
“What do you want?”
Whoever was speaking made Cameron’s jaw tighten.
“No.”
He listened.
Then disconnected.
“What happened?”
I asked.
Cameron said nothing.
“Who was it?”
Dominic looked at him.
“Boss?”
Cameron finally spoke.
“They want the girl.”
My body went numb.
“No.”
“They said Sadie doesn’t belong to you.”
“She is my daughter.”
“They know.”
“Then why—”
“They weren’t talking about you.”
I stared at him.
Before I could answer, the penthouse lights died.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Immediately, Dominic drew his gun.
“Security!”
Red emergency lighting flickered on.
Footsteps thundered somewhere outside.
Cameron seized my wrist.
“Stay behind me.”
An explosion shook the building.
Glass rattled.
Gunfire erupted downstairs.
Sadie.
I tore away.
“My daughter!”
“Lena!”
I ran.
Cameron caught me before I reached the elevator.
“That elevator is compromised.”
“She’s downstairs!”
“So are twenty armed men.”
“I don’t care!”
“I do.”
The words hit me strangely.
Cameron pressed a panel beside the wall.
A hidden door opened.
“Dominic, secure the east stairwell.”
Dominic disappeared.
Cameron dragged me through the hidden corridor.
“My men will get Sadie.”
“No!
She’ll be terrified.”
“She’ll be alive.”
Another burst of gunfire echoed below.
I struggled against him.
“Let me go!”
“Listen to me.”
He gripped my shoulders.
“If the people downstairs are who I think they are, you cannot protect her.”
“And you can?”
“Yes.”
The absolute certainty in his voice silenced me.
We emerged into a security room lined with monitors.
Half the screens were dead.
Others showed armed men moving through the lower floors.
Then one screen flickered.
The kitchen.
Maria was hiding beneath the counter.
No Sadie.
My stomach twisted.
“Where is she?”
Cameron grabbed the radio.
“Report.”
Static.
Then Dominic’s voice.
“Kitchen secure.
Girl missing.”
“No!”
I lunged toward the door.
Cameron blocked me.
A monitor suddenly changed.
Sadie appeared on camera.
She was walking down the west hallway.
Alone.
Holding her stuffed rabbit.
“Sadie!”
I screamed at the screen.
A masked man stepped into the hallway.
I stopped breathing.
He raised his gun.
Then something extraordinary happened.
Sadie looked at him.
The man froze.
Slowly, unbelievably, he lowered the weapon.
Sadie said something the camera couldn’t capture.
The masked man backed away.
Then another figure appeared.
An older man.
Silver hair.
No mask.
Cameron went rigid.
“You know him?”
His face had transformed.
I had never seen fear on Cameron Hale.
Not until that moment.
“Impossible.”
“Who is he?”
Cameron stared at the screen.
“Elias Crane.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Dominic’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Boss, Crane is dead.”
“I’m looking at him.”
On the monitor, Elias crouched before Sadie.
He touched her cheek.
Sadie didn’t seem afraid.
Instead, she reached toward him.
And touched the scar running across his throat.
“What is happening?”
I whispered.
Cameron was already moving.
“Stay here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Lena—”
“She is my daughter.”
For once, Cameron didn’t argue.
We ran.
By the time we reached the west corridor, Elias was gone.
Sadie sat calmly on the carpet.
I dropped to my knees.
“Baby!”
She wrapped her arms around me.
“Mommy.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did that man touch you?”
“He said hello.”
Cameron approached.
“What did he say?”
Sadie looked up at him.
“He knew my name.”
Cameron crouched.
“What else?”
“He said he knew Daddy.”
I froze.
Cameron’s eyes shot toward me.
“What exactly did he say?”
Sadie frowned, trying to remember.
“He said Daddy was brave.”
My chest tightened.
“And then?”
“He gave me this.”
She opened her little fist.
A key lay in her palm.
Small.
Brass.
Engraved with a bird.
Cameron stopped breathing.
“Bluebird,” I whispered.
He took the key.
And turned toward me.
“Adrian did give you something.”
“No.”
“Not you.”
His gaze returned to Sadie.
“Her.”
Before I could process that, Dominic came running around the corner.
“Building’s secure.
Six attackers dead.
Three escaped.”
He saw the key.
His face drained.
“Where did you get that?”
“The man gave it to Sadie,” I said.
Dominic looked at Cameron.
“Crane?”
Cameron nodded.
“That’s not possible.”
“You already said that.”
Dominic shook his head.
“No, you don’t understand.”
He looked at me.
“Elias Crane died ten years ago.”
The same year Emily died.
A cold certainty began forming inside me.
“Was he involved in the bombing?”
Cameron didn’t answer.
I grabbed his arm.
“Was he?”
“Yes.”
My breath caught.
“Elias planned the attack?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Cameron looked toward Sadie.
“He was supposed to prevent it.”
The hallway seemed to tilt.
“What do you mean?”
“Crane was my head of security.”
Cameron’s voice was hollow.
“He was driving the car.”
I stared at him.
“The car that exploded?”
“Yes.”
“But you said—”
“They found three bodies.”
Cameron’s eyes hardened.
“My wife.
Emily.
Crane.”
Dominic spoke quietly.
“All identified through dental records.”
Sadie tugged Cameron’s sleeve.
“That man wasn’t dead.”
“No,” Cameron whispered.
“He wasn’t.”
The key opened a private box inside a Manhattan bank that had closed seven years earlier.
Or at least, that was what Dominic discovered.
The bank itself was gone.
The building remained.
Cameron wanted Sadie moved immediately.
His most secure estate stood two hours north of the city.
I refused to let her leave my sight.
So, shortly after midnight, we traveled together.
Three black SUVs.
Twelve armed guards.
Cameron rode beside us.
Sadie fell asleep with her head against his arm.
At first, Cameron sat perfectly still.
Then slowly, he shifted so her neck wouldn’t bend awkwardly.
I watched him.
He noticed.
Neither of us spoke.
Outside, Manhattan disappeared behind us.
Twenty minutes later, Sadie stirred.
“Cameron?”
“Yes?”
“Did Emily have a bunny?”
Cameron’s face changed.
“What did you say?”
“A bunny.”
She held up her stuffed rabbit.
“Like mine.”
I looked at Cameron.
His voice came rough.
“Yes.”
“What color?”
He stared at her.
“White.”
Sadie smiled sleepily.
“Mine too.”
Then she fell asleep again.
Cameron looked at me.
“How would she know?”
“She didn’t.”
“Lena.”
“I swear.”
His gaze returned to Sadie.
“My daughter had a white stuffed rabbit named Mr.
Moon.”
I felt every hair rise on my skin.
Sadie’s rabbit had come from a thrift store.
She had chosen it herself when she was barely two.
“What happened to Emily’s rabbit?”
Cameron stared through the windshield.
“It was never found.”
At 1:17 a.m., the first SUV exploded.
The night became fire.
Our driver swerved.
Sadie woke screaming.
Gunfire erupted from the trees.
Cameron shoved us both down.
“Stay low!”
Bullets struck the armored windows.
The vehicle spun across the road.
Metal screamed.
Then we crashed.
For several seconds, everything disappeared beneath ringing silence.
I tasted blood.
“Sadie?”
“I’m here.”
Cameron kicked open the damaged door.
“Move!”
We crawled outside.
Men were shooting from the darkness.
Cameron returned fire.
I had never seen him like this.
Every movement precise.
Cold.
Efficient.
Terrifying.
Dominic appeared from behind another vehicle.
“Tree line!”
Cameron grabbed Sadie and handed her to me.
“Run to the ditch.”
We ran.
Then a man stepped from behind a burning SUV.
He aimed directly at Sadie.
I threw myself over her.
A gunshot cracked.
But I felt nothing.
When I looked up, the attacker was falling.
Cameron stood behind him.
His gun smoking.
“Get in the car.”
A surviving SUV screeched beside us.
We climbed inside.
Dominic drove.
Cameron sat opposite me, blood running from a cut near his temple.
Sadie trembled in my arms.
Then she reached toward him.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.”
She frowned.
“No, you’re not.”
And then, despite everything, Cameron smiled.
Barely.
But genuinely.
The expression vanished when Dominic’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Yeah?”
His face changed.
“When?”
Silence.
“Are you sure?”
He disconnected.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“The estate was hit twenty minutes ago.”
Cameron’s jaw tightened.
“How many?”
“Eight dead.”
“Attackers?”
“Our people.”
I closed my eyes.
They knew where we were going.
They knew our route.
They knew everything.
Cameron stared at Dominic.
“There’s a leak.”
Dominic nodded.
“One of ours.”
Sadie suddenly spoke.
“The bad man said that.”
We all looked at her.
“What bad man?”
I asked.
“The old man.”
“Crane?”
She nodded.
“What did he say?”
Sadie rubbed one eye.
“He said Cameron shouldn’t trust the man with the scar.”
The car became silent.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Cameron slowly turned his head.
Toward Dominic.
Toward the thin scar beneath his left eye.
Dominic’s hand moved toward his gun.
Cameron was faster.
He raised his weapon.
“Don’t.”
“Boss.”
“Hands where I can see them.”
“You’re believing a three-year-old?”
“I’m listening.”
“Cameron—”
“Hands.”
Dominic lifted them.
I pulled Sadie closer.
Dominic laughed once, bitterly.
“Twenty years.”
Cameron said nothing.
“I’ve been beside you twenty years, and this is what it comes to?”
“Then explain.”
“I can.”
“Start.”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward me.
And suddenly, I knew.
He wasn’t angry.
He was terrified.
“Not here.”
Cameron pressed the gun closer.
“Now.”
Dominic swallowed.
“You think Crane betrayed you.”
“He disappeared after my family died.”
“He didn’t betray you.”
“Then why fake his death?”
“To protect what survived.”
Something inside Cameron fractured.
“What survived?”
Dominic looked at Sadie.
“No,” Cameron whispered.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“The records were falsified.”
I stared between them.
“What records?”
“The dental records.”
Cameron’s face had gone completely white.
Dominic continued.
“Your wife died in the explosion.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Emily?”
Dominic said nothing.
Cameron’s gun trembled.
“Emily?”
“She wasn’t in the car.”
The words destroyed the air.
Cameron staggered backward.
“What?”
“Crane discovered the bomb before they left.”
Dominic’s voice shook.
“He pulled Emily out.”
Cameron stared at him.
“No.”
“He couldn’t save your wife.”
“No.”
“Crane knew whoever ordered the hit had people inside your organization.
He believed bringing Emily back would get her killed.”
“You knew?”
“No.
Not then.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
Cameron’s expression became lethal.
“You knew for six years my daughter might be alive?”
“I knew a child survived.
I didn’t know where she was.”
Cameron struck him.
Dominic crashed against the door.
Sadie screamed.
I covered her ears.
Cameron grabbed Dominic by the shirt.
“I buried an empty coffin.”
“I know.”
“I mourned my child for ten years!”
“I KNOW!”
Dominic’s shout filled the vehicle.
Then he said the words that silenced all of us.
“And Crane didn’t hide Emily from your enemies, Cameron.”
Cameron froze.
“He hid her from you.”
Cameron released him.
“What does that mean?”
Dominic wiped blood from his mouth.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I swear.”
“Why would he hide my daughter from me?”
Dominic looked toward Sadie.
“Maybe because of Bluebird.”
The brass key sat inside Cameron’s coat.
He touched it.
Then suddenly looked at Sadie’s stuffed rabbit.
His entire body stiffened.
“What?”
I followed his gaze.
One of the rabbit’s plastic eyes had cracked during the crash.
Something metallic glimmered inside.
Cameron reached toward it.
“May I?”
Sadie reluctantly handed him the toy.
Using his pocketknife, Cameron cut a small seam beneath the rabbit’s ear.
I nearly stopped breathing.
Inside was a tiny memory card.
No larger than a fingernail.
Cameron stared at it.
“How long has she had this rabbit?”
“Almost two years.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Thrift store.”
“Which one?”
“Brooklyn.
Near our old apartment.”
His eyes met mine.
“That wasn’t an accident.”
At dawn, we reached one of Cameron’s emergency safe houses.
No staff.
No guards beyond the four survivors.
Cameron inserted the memory card into an isolated laptop.
There was only one file.
A video.
The date stamped across it was three months earlier.
Cameron pressed play.
Elias Crane appeared on-screen.
Older.
Tired.
Alive.
“If you are watching this,” he began, “then Sadie has finally brought you the key.”
I stopped breathing.
He knew her name.
Cameron leaned closer.
Crane continued.
“Cameron, you have spent ten years believing your daughter died because your enemies wanted revenge.”
He paused.
“That was a lie.”
Cameron’s face hardened.
“The bomb was never meant to kill Emily.”
Crane looked directly into the camera.
“It was meant to make you believe she was dead.”
Dominic whispered, “Jesus.”
Crane continued.
“Because Emily saw something she was never supposed to see.”
My hand tightened around Sadie.
“What?”
Cameron whispered the same word.
On-screen, Crane exhaled.
“She saw the person who ordered the bombing.”
The video flickered.
Then returned.
“And that person was someone she trusted.”
Cameron’s eyes narrowed.
“A member of your family.”
The file abruptly corrupted.
The screen became static.
“No,” Cameron snapped.
He hit the keyboard.
The video returned for one final second.
Crane appeared again.
This time holding something toward the camera.
A photograph.
A woman.
Young.
Dark hair.
Standing beside Adrian Vale.
I leaned closer.
And felt my entire body turn to ice.
I knew that woman.
I had seen her face every morning of my life.
It was me.
But the photograph had been taken when I was supposedly seventeen years old.
Before I had ever met Adrian.
Before I had ever heard Cameron Hale’s name.
And on the back of the photograph, written in black ink, were four words:
EMILY HALE — AGE 17.
The laptop went dark.
Nobody spoke.
I could hear Sadie breathing beside me.
Cameron slowly turned toward me.
His face had lost every trace of color.
“No,” I whispered.
He stared at my eyes.
Then at Sadie’s.
Brown.
Exactly like the little girl in the photograph on his piano.
“No.”
I backed away.
Cameron stood.
“Lena.”
“My name is Lena.”
His voice cracked.
“I know.”
“You’re wrong.”
But something had already broken loose inside my memory.
A hospital room.
Bright lights.
A woman telling me I had been in an accident.
A new name.
A new school.
Years of childhood I could remember only in fragments.
And suddenly, impossibly, I remembered thunder.
A huge bed.
A man holding me beneath heavy blankets.
And a white rabbit named Mr.
Moon.
My knees gave out.
Cameron caught me.
I looked up at him.
Not at a mafia boss.
Not at my employer.
At the man from my forgotten nightmares.
And memories.
His voice was barely audible.
“Emily?”
Before I could answer, someone knocked three times on the safe-house door.
Every gun in the room rose.
Then came a woman’s voice from outside.
Calm.
Familiar.
Impossible.
“Cameron.”
His entire body went rigid.
The woman continued.
“Don’t believe Crane.”
Cameron moved toward the door.
Dominic grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
Then the woman outside said something that made Cameron stop breathing.
“She isn’t Emily.”
A pause.
“I am.”
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
Source: Stories of Destiny · Thanh Thanh
