“No... this can’t be real,” Elaine whispered. Her hand trembled, the phone nearly slipping from her grasp. Her heart raced as the weight of the recording echoed in her head—Harry’s voice. Clear and unmistakable, talking about drugging her, sending her to a hotel like some object to be delivered. Her eyes lifted, full of disbelief and horror. Harry’s face had gone ghostly pale. Beads of sweat formed on his temple. He looked like he’d just been punched in the gut by a freight train. “Elaine—please—let me explain!” he stammered, voice shaking. Elaine turned on him, her voice low and dangerous. “You drugged me?!” “No! I—I would never—” Harry staggered forward, eyes wide with mock desperation. “Elaine, think about it. Think about who gave you that phone.” “You’re really going to believe Antonio? That snake? That loser?” Elaine’s gaze faltered. Her breathing was ragged. “But the voice… it was your voice…” Harry clutched at his chest like he was the victim. “You think a ma