Chapter 5 IVY MORGAN'S POV

"Is that Lena's blood?"

I didn't mean for my voice to shake, but it did. No one answered right away. Nicholas was standing too still, like his body had shut off while his brain ran a thousand miles per hour.

The officer holding the plastic evidence bag looked between us.

"We won't know until it's tested."

Nicholas stepped forward slowly. "Where exactly did you find it?"

"In the dumpster behind this building."

"That makes no sense," I said. "Lena was never here."

"Was she with the nanny?"

"Yes. But not here. She was at home."

The officer nodded. "And where is the nanny now?"

"Missing," Nicholas said. "We came here to check on her."

The officer turned to his partner. "Start getting the statements."

"I want to call my lawyer," Nicholas said.

"Of course."

"And someone needs to check on my daughter."

"We'll have an officer dispatched."

"No. I want eyes on her now."

"I'll call my security," I said, already pulling out my phone.

Nicholas looked at me sharply. "Use the encrypted line."

I nodded and stepped away.

The call picked up on the second ring.

"I need a status on Lena Thorne. Now."

"Still in the apartment," the guard said. "Safe. Quiet. Watching TV with another guard present."

"Keep her there. Don't let anyone else in. No one."

"Yes, ma'am."

I hung up and turned back. Nicholas was speaking in low tones to a detective who had just arrived.

I moved beside him.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"They want to search the place again. With a full warrant."

"Let them."

He gave me a look. "I don't like cops crawling through my life."

"Do you want to be a suspect?"

"I'm already a suspect."

"Not if we stay ahead of this."

He didn't answer.

The detective stepped in. "We're going to bring in the watch for testing. You can both leave for now, but we may call you in for formal questioning."

"Call my attorney," Nicholas said. "All communication goes through him."

"Understood."

We turned to leave.

"Ivy," the detective said, stopping me.

I paused.

"Do you know of anyone who would want to frame Mr. Thorne?"

I hesitated.

"Yes."

"Name?"

"Celeste Wren."

Nicholas looked at me sharply, but I didn't stop.

"She's the sister of Nicholas's late wife. She showed up yesterday after years of silence. She wants custody of Lena."

"That's serious."

"She's serious."

The detective nodded. "We'll follow up."

Back in the car, silence stretched too long.

"You think Celeste planted it?" Nicholas finally asked.

"I think she wants Lena."

"That's not the same thing."

"I'm not ruling her out."

He rubbed his jaw. "She wouldn't hurt Lena."

"She might not have to. Just make it look like you did."

His eyes flicked toward me. "You didn't mention she said Eliza was scared before she died."

"She said a lot of things."

"Exactly. So either she knows more than she's letting on, or she's making it all up to play the grieving aunt."

"I'll handle it."

"You don't need to."

"She likes me more than you."

He didn't argue with that.

I looked out the window. "We're running out of time, Nick. Lena's already in danger and we don't even know what from. Someone wants her scared. Or worse. That anonymous call wasn't a prank."

"No. It wasn't."

I turned back to him. "And you still haven't told me what Eliza found."

"I don't know."

"You said she pulled files."

"Encrypted ones. I've tried to open them."

"Then give them to me."

"What?"

"You said you wanted help. So help me help you. Send me the files."

He stared at me for a long second. Then nodded.

"Fine. I'll send them tonight."

By the time we got back to the penthouse, Lena was napping on the couch, one of the guards reading a magazine nearby.

Nicholas crossed the room immediately, crouched beside her, and touched her hair.

"She's okay," I said softly.

"For now."

He looked up at the guard. "Any disturbances?"

"None. Doors and cameras are secure. Nothing flagged."

Nicholas nodded, then looked at me. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

He led me to the kitchen and made us both espresso before sliding a plate of cold pasta my way.

"You know I'm not going to pretend this is a date, right?" I said.

"You're not pretending to be my fiancée either."

"I still don't know why you picked me."

He sipped his coffee. "Because you know how to lie with your eyes open."

I frowned. "That's not comforting."

"It's not supposed to be."

I pushed the plate away. "You ever think maybe all this started before Eliza?"

He looked at me. "What do you mean?"

"She found something. But what if she stumbled on something you were already involved in?"

"I wasn't."

"You sure?"

He didn't answer.

"You said it yourself," I continued. "Someone accused you of changing her meds. That doesn't just come out of nowhere. Someone's watching you."

He stood up and walked to the fridge.

"Do you think I'm guilty, Ivy?"

"I don't know."

He turned slowly.

"But I know you're hiding something," I said.

"I'm hiding a lot of things."

"Then start telling me."

He stared at me for a long second.

Then he said it.

"Eliza recorded conversations. She bugged my office."

"What?"

"She thought I was cheating."

"Were you?"

"No."

"Then what was she looking for?"

"I don't know. But she left the recordings somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know that either."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Then we need to find them."

"You mean break into my dead wife's files?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."

Later that night, I was alone in the office with Nicholas's laptop open in front of me.

The folder he sent had six encrypted files. All labeled with medical codes and initials I didn't recognize.

I tried the usual passwords. Eliza's name. Lena's birthdate. Nothing worked.

Then I remembered what Celeste said. About how Eliza used to call Lena her sunlight.

I typed in sunlight713.

Click.

The first file opened.

A grainy audio recording crackled through the speakers.

A woman's voice. Nervous. Soft.

Eliza.

"They think I don't see it. But I do. The money. The silent accounts. The fake patient files. Nicholas doesn't know I've found them. I can't tell him. I think he's in it. I think they all are."

Static.

Then a pause.

Then a different voice.

Familiar.

Chilling.

Celeste.

"You need to stop, Eliza. You're making things worse."

"I'm not crazy."

"No. But you're digging your own grave."

The file is cut out.

My heart was pounding.

I clicked the next file.

A hospital name popped up. Then a patient list.

A red tag marked DELETED.

All of them.

A third file opened. Images. Copies of checks. From a private firm.

Then a note from Eliza.

If anything happens to me, start here. Trust no one.

I leaned back.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I answered, heart racing.

"Ivy Morgan," the voice rasped.

My blood froze.

Same distorted voice from the earlier call.

"You opened the files."

I couldn't speak.

"You shouldn't have."

"What do you want?"

A pause.

Then:

"Lena dies next."