Mrs. Morrison's eyes filled with tears. "Alicia needs me.""Exactly." Linda's voice softened, almost gentle. "Alicia needs you. She needs you by her side, fighting for her, advocating for her. If you go to prison, who will take care of her? Who will make sure she gets the treatment she needs? Who will be there when she wakes up from nightmares?"Mrs. Morrison's legs gave way. She sank onto the chair behind her, her head in her hands."You see," Linda continued, "backing out isn't as easy as you think. You're in too deep. We both are. The only way out is to see this through. To make sure Dr. Hart takes the fall. To make sure the research is discredited for good."Mrs. Morrison looked up, her eyes red, her face streaked with tears. "And if I refuse?"Linda shrugged. "Then you'll face the consequences. Alone. Without anyone to protect you or your daughter."She moved to the window, pulling back the blind just enough to let a sliver of light into the room."I'm not your enemy, Mrs. Morris

The morning sun streamed through the windows of Whitaker's office as he sat before a bank of monitors, his team working tirelessly around him. The hospital security footage had been pulled within hours of Jackson's call, and now they were combing through every frame, searching for any sign of the black sedan."Got it," one of his analysts said, freezing the image on the screen. "License plate is visible. Running it now."Whitaker leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the grainy image. The plate was partially obscured by shadow, but the analyst was able to enhance it enough to pull a partial sequence."Cross-referencing with DMV records," another analyst reported. "Coming back as a rental vehicle. Enterprise, out of the airport location."Whitaker nodded. "Get me the rental agreement. I want to know who rented that car."It took another hour, but eventually, the rental agreement was located. The name on the agreement was a pseudonym—"John Smith"—but the payment method traced back to a corp

The elevator doors slid open, and Celestine stepped into the penthouse at Sky Tower, the envelope clutched tightly in her hands. Her eyes were red, her face pale, but her jaw was set with determination. Jackson was waiting for her by the window, his phone in his hand, his expression tense. Ruth sat on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes fixed on the door. Whitaker stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed, his face unreadable.Celestine crossed the room and set the envelope on the coffee table. Her hands were trembling, but her voice was steady."I found him. Henry Marsh. Evelyn's husband." She paused, swallowing hard. "The lab fire wasn't an accident. Linda set it. She wanted to destroy Evelyn's research. She wanted to destroy Evelyn."The room was silent. Jackson moved to the table, opening the envelope and pulling out the stack of emails. Ruth rose, crossing to stand beside him, her eyes scanning the pages. Whitaker stepped closer, reading over their shoulders."This

Lorraine looked at Evans, her eyes bright with tears."Samantha was my first love," Evans said quietly. "She was the first person who made me feel like I wasn't alone. When I thought she was dying, everything else faded away. The fear, the anger, the years of separation—none of it mattered. All that mattered was that she was suffering, and I couldn't bear it."Lorraine's tears spilled over, but she didn't look away."But Lorraine," Evans continued, his voice thick, "that doesn't mean I love you any less. That doesn't mean I would trade what we have for anything in the world. Samantha is my past. You are my present. You are my future."He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears. "My heart beats for you, Lorraine. It beats for the life we're building together. It beats for the mornings I wake up next to you. It beats for the sound of your laugh, the warmth of your touch, the way you look at me like I'm someone worth loving."Lorraine's breath hitched. "You mean

"Oh come on," Hailey said, pulling Samantha to her feet. "You can't go to a charity gala in jeans and a sweater. We're going shopping."Samantha shook her head. "Hailey, I don't have the energy—""You don't need energy. You need a best friend with excellent taste." Hailey was already grabbing her purse. "And you're lucky you have one."Samantha sighed, but she was smiling. "Fine. But nothing too flashy."Hailey linked her arm through Samantha's. "Trust me."***The boutique was small, tucked away on a side street, its windows filled with elegant gowns in jewel tones and soft pastels. Hailey marched in like she owned the place, immediately pulling dresses off racks and holding them up against Samantha."This one," Hailey declared, holding up a deep emerald gown with a sweetheart neckline.Samantha raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of green.""It's your color. Trust me."Samantha took the dress into the fitting room, her heart pounding. She hadn't dressed up in years—hadn't wanted to. He