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Cold October wind whipped my hair across my face, but the stinging heat on my left cheek completely drowned out the chill. Mara stood beside me on the terrace, her hands clamped over her mouth as silent tears leaked down her mascara. Inside the glass doors, the jazz quartet had finally resumed playing, a jaunty, swinging tune that felt like a sick joke echoing across the luxury ballroom. / Chapter 12 / 20

Chapter 12 - Shadows in the Rearview MirrorNot everyone was ready to celebrate. Three weeks into my tenure as CEO, Mara intercepted a hand-delivered envelope left at the building’s security desk. There was no return address, only my name written in sharp, familiar cursive.

Inside was a single polaroid photograph taken through a zoomed lens from across the street: me, standing at my office window late at night, framed against the Chicago skyline. Across the back of the photo, Julian had scrawled in jagged ink: You can lock the doors, Elena, but the past always finds a way inside.

My heart hammered against my ribs for a single terrifying second. Then, the cold, razor-sharp clarity that had saved me on the night of the anniversary party took over.

I didn't panic. I didn't call the police. I walked straight to my private computer terminal, pulled up the prison visitation logs for the federal penitentiary, and discovered what my security team had missed: someone had visited Julian twice under a false legal alias using a forged Department of Justice clearance badge.

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