Chapter 4
The police station smelled like burnt coffee and regret.
Elara sat in a small interview room, a styrofoam cup of cold soda in front of her, her split knuckle wrapped in a bandage the nurse had given her.
Julian was in the next room.
Lila was in the lobby, talking to a victim’s advocate.
The detective who’d questioned her for the last three hours leaned back in his chair.
He was a tired-looking man in his fifties, with a scar across his left cheek and a wedding ring that had been worn smooth.
“Let me get this straight,” he said, for the fourth time. “Margaret Hale killed your mom, stole your brother, paid your dad to help her, then showed up to the wedding with a gun and shot your dad when he tried to stop her from killing you and Julian.”
“That’s right,” Elara said.
“And you just… happened to have all the proof? The contracts, the bank records, the security footage?”
“I spent ten years collecting it,” Elara said. “I worked three jobs to pay a private investigator. I hacked the Hale company servers twice. I talked to every nurse, every housekeeper, every business partner who’d ever worked for Margaret. I didn’t leave anything to chance.”
The detective nodded.
He flipped through the file in front of him.
“Ballistics came back,” he said. “The bullet that killed Arthur Voss was fired from Margaret Hale’s gun. Her prints are all over it. Witnesses confirm she fired first. Your use of force to disarm her is completely justified. You’re not in any trouble, Ms. Voss.”
Elara let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
“Good,” she said.
The detective closed the file.
“Look,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ve been doing this job for twenty-eight years. I’ve seen a lot of rich people get away with a lot of bad things. What you did tonight? It takes guts. But I need you to hear me.”
He paused.
“Margaret Hale has a lot of friends. A lot of powerful friends. People who made millions off that stolen patent. People who are gonna be very, very angry that their gravy train just derailed. You’ve won the first battle, Ms. Voss. But the war? It’s just getting started. Watch your back.”
Elara nodded.
“I know,” she said.
The detective stood up.
“Your brother and your friend are waiting for you outside,” he said. “Go home. Get some sleep. And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong? You call me. Day or night.”
He handed her a card.
She took it.
“Thank you, Detective Miller.”
He nodded.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid.”
Elara walked out of the interview room.
Julian was leaning against the wall opposite the door.
He looked like he’d aged ten years in three hours.
His tuxedo was torn.
His hair was a mess.
There was dried blood under his fingernails—their dad’s blood.
He looked up when he saw her.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“They told me Arthur’s body is being moved to the morgue,” he said. “I told them to do an autopsy. Just to make sure. I know Margaret shot him, but… I don’t trust anything about this family anymore.”
“Good call,” Elara said.
They stood there in the hallway.
Awkward.
Two strangers who shared the same blood.
Julian gestured to the bandage on her hand.
“Your knuckle okay?”
“Fine. I’ve had worse.”
Julian nodded.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out the locket again.
Held it out to her.
“It’s yours,” he said. “You’re the oldest. It should go to you.”
Elara pushed his hand back.
“No,” she said. “It’s yours. It was given to you. My locket has my name on the back. Yours has yours. They’re a pair. Just like us.”
Julian’s eyes glistened.
He closed his hand around the locket.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, his voice rough. “Be a brother. I’ve never had anyone but Margaret. And she was… she was never a mom. She was a drill sergeant. She told me what to wear, what to say, who to marry. I never got to choose anything for myself.”
Elara stepped closer.
Put a hand on his arm.
“We’ll figure it out together,” she said. “Okay? One day at a time. We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be there for each other.”
Julian nodded.
He pulled her into a hug.
It was stiff at first.
Awkward.
Then Elara wrapped her arms around him.
And for the first time in her life, she felt safe.
Like she finally had someone who’d stand in front of her when the bullets started flying.
They pulled apart when Lila walked over.
She was still in her wedding dress.
She’d taken off the veil.
Her makeup was gone.
But she looked calmer than she had all night.
“Hey,” she said. “The advocate got us a hotel room for the night. My apartment is in Margaret’s building, so… I can’t go back there. And Julian’s house is being searched by the feds. So we’re all stuck together for a while.”
Elara smiled.
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
They walked out of the police station together.
The sun was starting to come up.
Pink and orange streaked across the sky.
A new day.
A new life.
Or so Elara thought.
Her phone rang.
It was Mr. Torres.
She answered.
“Ms. Voss,” he said. His voice was tight. Urgent. “I just got off the phone with the SEC. The Hale company’s stock is in free fall. Trading was halted ten minutes ago. But that’s not the bad news.”
Elara’s stomach dropped.
“What is it?”
“Someone leaked the Viraflu patent files to the press this morning. The full, unredacted files. Including the early trial data.”
Elara froze.
Viraflu was her mom’s vaccine.
It had saved millions of lives.
But the early trials—
there had been side effects.
Three people had died.
Clara had fixed the problem before the drug went to market.
But the raw data?
If it got out?
People would panic.
They’d stop taking the vaccine.
Thousands could die.
“Who leaked it?” Elara said.
“We don’t know yet,” Mr. Torres said. “But the files were accessed from Julian Hale’s personal laptop three hours ago. While he was at the police station.”
Elara looked at Julian.
He was laughing at something Lila had said.
He looked innocent.
But Margaret had raised him.
Had she taught him more than he was letting on?
“Ms. Voss?” Mr. Torres said. “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” Elara said. Her voice was cold. “Get the IT team on it. Find out exactly who accessed those files. And don’t tell anyone else. Not yet.”
She hung up.
Julian looked at her.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
Elara smiled.
It didn’t reach her eyes.
“Everything’s fine,” she said. “Just company stuff. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
But as they walked to the car, Elara’s mind was racing.
Detective Miller was right.
May you like
The war was just getting started.
And the first shot had been fired by someone she trusted.
