flash
I didn’t wait for the paramedics. I broke every speed limit in Seattle to reach the Fremont duplex. When I burst through the front door, the sight of two identical girls—small, terrified, holding hands—nearly brought me to my knees. Hazel and Iris. T / Chapter 3 / 10

Chapter 3 - THE HIDDEN LIFEWhile Sloan slept, I went through her home. Behind a fake panel in her closet, I found it: a burner phone, a passport in a different name, and a dossier on me. She had been watching me for years, keeping track of my security protocols, making sure I was safe from the very people she was fleeing.

She had been living as a ghost to keep the targets off our backs.

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The heavy mahogany door of the east gallery closed softly behind me, but the silence inside did not comfort me. It pressed down like lead.

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The cool marble of the private east gallery felt chilling beneath my fingertips. The pale moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated The Blue Woman, the haunting masterpiece my mother had painted just weeks before her tragic death.

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