Damien Shaw "I don’t even know who to trust anymore." The words are frustrating as they leave my mouth. I press my hands flat against the edge of my desk, gripping it harder. Gerald stands across from me, his expression carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “Weaknesses in our security?” I continue. “And now we’re sure someone on the inside helped with the leak?”Gerald nods. “Yes. The evidence points to internal involvement. Possibly more than one person.” The idea sinks into my chest like a stone. More than one person. It’s almost unthinkable. My team, the people I’ve trusted, built this company with—could they really be working against me? My throat tightens at the thought. “We need a full background check on every employee,” I say. “No exceptions. I don’t care how long they’ve been with the company, whether they’re at the executive level or just interns. Go through them all.”Gerald hesitates, just for a second. “That’ll take time,” he says carefull
Imogene Scott I sit in the living room, wringing my hands together as I stare at the clock. The agency said they’d send the fourth candidate soon, but if she’s anything like the last three, I’m not sure I’ll survive the day. The first woman looked like she’d send me into an early grave with how tightly wound she was, and the second… I don’t even want to think about her. I could practically see her zoning out halfway through our conversation. The third one made me tilt my head in disbelief—a heavy coat, in this heat? On a blazing sunny day? What was she hiding under there? I shake my head, exasperated. A long sigh slips from my lips, and I sink further into the couch, staring at the sun-drenched curtains. Why is this so hard? I just want someone competent. Someone who can help me manage this house without driving me insane. The sharp ring of the doorbell jolts me upright. I spring to my feet, brushing invisible creases from my dress. Fourth time’s the charm, right? I don’t
Imogene Scott The man at the counter is already turning away, dismissing me, when he suddenly stops. "Wait a second," he says, scratching his chin. "There was this guy—Terry. Used to work here a few years back. He’d forge our company’s mark and make his own stuff to sell on the side. Got caught eventually, but we didn’t press charges. Just fired him." I freeze mid-step. "You didn’t sue him?" He shakes his head. "Nope. Boss said it wasn’t worth the trouble. But Terry packed up and left after that. Haven’t heard from him since." Something about this doesn’t sit right. "How long ago was this?" "Two years, give or take," he replies. I do the math in my head. Two years ago, my father was alive and very much involved in his business dealings. Could this Terry have something to do with the key? The timeline feels too coincidental. "Do you know where I can find him?" I press. The man shrugs. "We’ve got his old address in our records. No idea if he still lives there, though."
Damien Shaw I stretch in my chair, feeling the stiffness in my shoulders pull and then release. The clock on the wall reads 9:07 p.m. Another late night. Another day closer to the conference, and still no answers. I rub a hand down my face, willing the tension in my temples to ease. It doesn’t. My desk is a mess of reports, files, and sticky notes.Just as I reach for my bag, the office door swings open. Gerald steps in, looking as worn as I feel. “I’ve gone through background checks on half of the employees,” he starts without preamble, clutching a tablet to his chest. “Still nothing. But I’m digging deeper. I’ll—” “Not good enough,” I cut him off.Gerald falters. “I’m trying my best, sir.” “Try harder,” I snap, shoving my laptop into my bag. “We’re running out of time. If we don’t find out who helped the traitor before the conference, I’ll be walking into that room with a target on my back.” He lowers his head slightly. “I understand.” “Do you?” I retort, slinging my
Imogene ScottThe following day, I drop Lily off at school first. I watch as she skips toward the school building. She turns at the door, grinning from ear to ear, and waves at me. I wave back. “Bye, Mommy!” she calls.“Bye, sweetheart! Have fun!” I call back, forcing a smile. She disappears into the building, and as soon as she’s out of sight, my smile falters. My stomach twists. I shouldn’t be doing this today—not with Mother-Daughter Day this afternoon. But I can’t ignore this lead either. Sliding into the car, I take a deep breath and grip the steering wheel. “It’s for the best,” I murmur to myself. I glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s 8:15 a.m. If I time it perfectly, I’ll be back before 4 p.m. Plenty of time. The drive out of town is uneventful at first. My mind keeps drifting. What am I even expecting to find? Proof? Closure? Answers? All I know is that I need to figure out what Terry’s connection to my father really was—and why the key matters so much. An hou
Damien Shaw I stretch in my seat, leaning back to ease the tension in my shoulders. It’s almost five, and I’m thinking about getting out early for once. Mother-Daughter Day at Lily’s school is happening, and even though fathers aren’t invited, I still wish I were there. But that’s not my reality. I have work, responsibilities. Gerald was supposed to deliver a report today—background checks on all employees—but he’s been dragging his feet. My eyes flick to the clock again. If Gerald shows up soon, I can still make dinner plans with my girls. There’s a knock at the door. I straighten, expecting Gerald, but it’s Kia. She steps in.“Mr Shaw, can I have a moment?” I nod, gesturing for her to sit. “What is it?” “It’s about Gerald,” she says, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. “What about him?” She hesitates. “I think he’s... off. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe you should be cautious.” I lean forward, narrowing my eyes. “Why do you s
Imogene Scott The gravel crunches beneath my heels as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. The heat of the day is fading, but it’s still sticky, and the air feels heavy against my skin. I’m standing by the side of the road, staring down the empty highway, wishing for a miracle. It’s almost 7 p.m., and I’ve been here for four hours. No cars. No buses. Just me and this crooked bench at the abandoned bus stop, looking like it’s ready to collapse. I push a strand of damp hair out of my face and glance at my phone again. Still no service. Damien must be losing his mind right now. He’s probably called the police, maybe even organized a search party. The thought sends a fresh wave of guilt down my spine. And Lily… God, Lily. My throat tightens at the memory of her excited face this morning, babbling about her school event. I missed it. I missed her moment. What kind of mother am I? I take a deep breath and sink onto the bench, resting my head in my hands. The wooden slats di
Imogene Scott The rest of the ride is quiet. When we finally reach the city, I direct him to the house. He stops at the curb, and I thank him profusely, but he waves me off. “Take care of yourself,” he says before driving away. The house is dark when I step inside, eerily quiet. My shoes echo against the floor as I walk into the living room. Damien is pacing, his hair disheveled, his jaw tight. When he sees me, his eyes widen, and he strides toward me. “Where the hell were you, Imogene?” “I’m so sorry,” I start, but he cuts me off. “Sorry? Do you know how worried I’ve been? I thought something happened to you!” “I got stranded,” I explain. “My car broke down. I couldn’t call—there was no service.” “And you didn’t think to tell me where you were going?” His voice is sharp, his anger barely contained. “I didn’t think it would take this long,” He runs his hands through his hair. “Lily was so sad today.”Oh no, my baby.I walk up the stairs, Lily must be asleep by now, a
Imogene ScottIt’s midnight, and I still can’t sleep. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling because my mind refuses to quiet down. The room is dark except for the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the curtains. The house is silent. I curl my arms around my stomach, my fingers lightly tracing the curve of my belly. Two months. That’s all the time I have before the twins arrive, and yet I don’t feel ready. I barely feel capable of handling Lily some days. How am I supposed to take care of two more babies? I exhale slowly, willing the thoughts away, but they keep creeping back in. Damien was right about one thing—I’ve been forgetful lately. Not just little things like where I left my phone or if I locked the front door, but important things. I should have cleaned up the broken glass earlier. I should have been more careful. What if it had been worse? What if Lily had gotten seriously hurt because of me? My throat tightens. I know I should see a doctor, but the very
Damien ShawI let out a slow breath, my fingers pressing against my temples as I watch Imogene walk out of the room. The door doesn’t slam, but the sound of it clicking shut is just as final. My jaw tightens. Of course, she walked away. That’s what she does when she doesn’t want to hear something, shuts down, closes herself off. I loosen my tie, feeling the frustration settle in my chest. I hadn’t meant to start an argument. But how could she act like this wasn’t serious? It’s not just about her anymore. She’s been forgetting things more and more lately, and now Lily’s gotten hurt because of it. Just a small cut, sure. But what if it had been worse? What if she had stepped on something deeper, something that couldn’t be patched up with a bandage and a sticker? I exhale through my nose, rubbing a hand down my face. Fighting with Imogene never gets me anywhere. She’s stubborn. Too stubborn. But damn it, I don’t want to wake up one day and realize something terrible has happened be
Imogene Scott I carefully press the small, pastel-colored sticker onto the bandage covering Lily’s tiny foot. A smiling cartoon bear grins back at me, as if that alone can erase my guilt. I kiss her forehead, inhaling the soft, baby-powder scent of her hair. "I'm sorry, baby," I whisper, brushing a stray curl away from her face. Lily shifts on the couch, pulling the plush blanket over her lap. "It's not Mummy’s fault," she says in her small, serious voice. "Lily wasn’t careful." My heart clenches. Even at four, she’s trying to take the blame for something that’s entirely mine. I should’ve cleaned up the glass right away. I should’ve been more careful. I lift her tiny hand to my lips and kiss it. "Do you want me to get you anything?" Lily’s eyes brighten. "Chocolates!" I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "You know you can’t have sweets past seven, baby. It’s almost eight." "Please, Mummy?" She pouts, her big brown eyes glaring at me.I sigh. "Fine," I relent,
Imogene ScottI jolt awake, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. The room is dimly lit, the heavy curtains keeping most of the daylight out. My heart is racing, my body damp with sweat. I sit up slowly, pressing a hand to my chest. The dream is already slipping away, but I know what it was about. Georgia. It’s always Georgia. My dreams are always about her. Mostly about that night she died.I exhale shakily and push a damp strand of hair from my face. My nightgown clings to my back, sticky with sweat. The dream lingers, making my skin prickle with unease. Why won’t these nightmares stop?I reach for the glass of water on my nightstand, desperate for something to soothe my dry throat, but my hand meets empty space. I blink, frowning. It’s always there. I always leave it there. And then I remember—I moved the jug before my nap. But where? I try to picture it, but my mind feels sluggish, foggy. Did I put it in the kitchen? On the dr
Damien Shaw I’m at my desk, working through a contract revision when Kia steps into my office. I don’t look up immediately, still focused on the document in front of me. “Sir, someone’s here to see you,” she says. I finally glance up, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The first thought that comes to mind is the damn principal. I hope he hasn’t shown up here to grovel in person. I already made it clear—either they fix their behavior toward Lily, or I pull every last cent I’ve donated to that school. I don’t need another pointless apology. But when the door opens wider, it’s not the principal. It’s Sheila. I frown, leaning back in my chair as I take her in. She looks… fine. Not sick. But Imogene told me Sheila was unwell and wouldn’t be coming in for a few days. So what the hell is she doing here? “Sheila,” I say, watching her carefully. “Mr. Shaw.” She nods in greeting. “What are you doing here?” My tone is sharp.She offers a small smile, shifting on her feet. “I was
Imogene ScottI take my time getting Lily ready for school the next morning. With Sheila still sick and not coming in, the task is entirely mine, and I don’t mind. I cherish these moments—though today, my mind feels sluggish. I’m bothered by Georgia’s bracelet I found yesterday and the strange sense of forgetfulness creeping into my life lately. Lily sits on the edge of my bed, swinging her little legs back and forth as I button up her white blouse. She tilts her head back to look up at me.“Mommy, what’s wrong?” she asks. I pause for a second, startled. “Nothing, baby.” I smooth down her collar, making sure it sits perfectly. “I just want to remind you that if anything happens at school, if you feel sick or if someone makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me, okay?” Lily nods, her curls bouncing with the movement. “Yes, Mommy.” “That’s my good girl.” I kiss the top of her head and take her small hand in mine, as I lead her out of the house. The drive to school is fi
Imogene Scott Lily giggles as she picks at the last piece of her banana pancake. Her tiny fingers are sticky with syrup. I watch her as I rest my head against the back of the chair. But my mind is somewhere else. The bracelet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer is hidden somewhere in the cracks. Did I put it there? Had I forgotten? That’s the only logical explanation. Lately, I’ve been forgetful—missing appointments, losing track of time, misplacing things. Maybe this is just another slip, another thing lost in the chaos of my mind. But it doesn’t feel right. I inhale deeply, my fingers curling into my lap. I need to see it again. “Lily, baby, I’ll be right back,” I say, pushing my chair back. She nods, too focused on her food to question me. I walk upstairs slowly, each step. When I reach my bedroom, I hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is dim. I make my way to the dresser. The drawer creaks
Imogene Scott Lily swings her legs under the table, her tiny feet barely brushing the ground as she happily digs into her mint chocolate ice cream. A small smear of green is at the corner of her mouth. She hums quietly as she eats, completely lost in her own little world. I should be able to enjoy this moment. Watching her be this happy should bring me peace, but it doesn’t. My stomach twists as I stare at her even though my own ice cream is melting in the cup. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let things get this far. I shouldn’t have let my past mistakes bleed into Lily’s life. She’s just a child, my child, and she deserves to grow up without the weight of my sins pressing down on her. She looks up suddenly, “Mommy, are you okay?” I force a smile, even though my face feels stiff. “Of course, baby.” Lily nods, satisfied with my answer, and goes back to her ice cream. “Very good, Mommy,” she says in her soft, sweet voice before taking another spoonful. I w
Imogene Scott I pull back from Damien’s embrace. He exhales heavily, brushing his fingers over my cheek before saying, "I need to get back to work. I’ll see you at home tonight."I frown. "You don’t think you should go home first? Shower, change?"He smirks, rubbing his jaw. "It’s already midday, I’ll do everything later tonight."I shake my head, wrapping my arms around him again despite the sweat and stress clinging to his skin. "I want to hug you all day even though you smell so bad.""No, I don’t," he scoffs, tightening his hold on me. "You’re just being mean."I smile against his chest, inhaling deeply before stepping back. "Where are you headed now?" he asks, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear."Lily’s school."His expression shifts. "Something wrong?"I open my mouth to say no—because I don’t want to worry him, because I know how he gets—but then I remember: no more secrets. That’s what we promised each other.I press my lips together and nod. "One of Lily’s clas