Chapter 4

The sting on my cheek was a familiar fire, a ghost of a pain I' d felt a thousand times in my first life. But this time, I didn' t crumble. I didn' t cry.

I slowly turned my head back, my eyes locking onto Ethan' s. I saw the flicker of triumph in his, the satisfaction of having finally broken me in front of everyone.

He was wrong.

I reached into my small clutch purse. Instead of the checkbook he was expecting, I pulled out my phone and a small adapter.

"You' re right, Ethan," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "I am hurting. But not for the reasons you think."

I walked past him, ignoring the shocked whispers, and headed straight for the DJ booth and the large projection screen behind it, which had been cycling through photos of the ranch. I unplugged the DJ' s laptop and plugged in my phone.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ethan yelled, starting after me.

"I think everyone here deserves to know the real story behind what happened on that mountain," I said, my voice now amplified by the microphone I' d grabbed.

I pressed play.

An audio file began to broadcast through the massive speakers set up around the tent. The sound quality was crystal clear. I had spent a week and a lot of money on the best miniature recording device I could find.

It was Brooke' s voice first, sharp and conspiratorial.

"Is the new GPS tracker ready? Make sure it' s the one with the faulty battery. I want it to die about an hour after he gets past the treeline."

Then, Tyler' s hesitant reply.

"Brooke, I don' t know about this. What if he actually gets hurt? Frostbite is no joke."

"Don' t be a baby, Tyler," Brooke' s voice snapped back. "A little frostbite is a good story. It makes him a tragic hero. He' ll get lost, I' ll 'heroically' organize a private search party with my own money, and the Hayes family will owe me forever. And Ethan will finally see me as his savior, not that boring Chloe."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd. People were looking at Brooke, her sweet-girl mask starting to crack.

But the recording wasn' t over.

"And what about Chloe?" Tyler asked.

Brooke laughed, a cruel, ugly sound. "That' s the best part. When Ethan is missing, you call her. You panic. You beg her to go. She' s so predictable, she' ll drop everything to play the hero for him. And with the faulty map you' re giving him, she' ll be searching in the wrong area, near Black Widow Ridge. It' s notoriously unstable. A little 'accident' up there... and she' s out of the picture for good. Permanently."

The recording ended.

The silence that followed was absolute. Every eye was on Brooke and Tyler, who stood frozen, their faces pale with horror. Ethan looked like he' d been physically struck, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the woman clinging to his arm.

Just as the chaos began to erupt, two sheriff' s deputies stepped into the tent.

They walked calmly through the stunned crowd, heading straight for me. One of them, a stern-faced woman, gave me a slight nod.

"Ms. Croft," she said, her voice official and loud enough for everyone to hear. "We' ve reviewed the evidence package you sent over. The text messages, the financial records showing Ms. Brooke Allen' s payment to Mr. Tyler Cole."

She turned her gaze to Brooke and Tyler.

"Brooke Allen, Tyler Cole, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit assault and reckless endangerment."

Brooke started screaming, a raw, animal sound of pure panic. Tyler just sagged, looking like he was about to be sick.

Ethan was still frozen, his world collapsing around him in real-time. He looked from the deputies, to Brooke, to the shattered pieces of his expensive sculpture on the floor, and finally, to me. His eyes were filled with a dawning, horrified disbelief.

He had been the pawn in a game he didn't even know was being played. And I was the one who had just checkmated the queen.