Lauren's POV I could hardly breathe as I read the news tab that gave a recount of the horrifying details. The woman had been murdered after a house that she shared with other people was broken into the night before. That night was a blur, filled with sleepless tossing and turning, but I knew nothing had happened while I slept. Or at least, I thought I knew. The possibility that the same intruder could have been in my house chilled me to the bone. My hands trembled as I reached for my phone, barely managing to dial Damien’s number. When he answered, the sound of his voice was like a lifeline. I could barely get the words out between sobs. “Damien… someone was killed… so close to here,” I managed, choking on my tears as I felt the world spinning before my eyes. “Lauren, are you okay? I’m on my way. I went on the road as soon as I woke up,” he said, his voice urgent and calming all at once. “Stay put. I’ll be there in no time. But if you don’t feel safe in
Lauren's POV I burst through the door of the rehab center when it was opened after I had knocked on it, my wild eyes going every which way to figure out if anything was out of place. Damien was right beside me in support, unsure of what I was there to do but being there anyway. “Why have you all refused to give my mother’s information to the police?” I asked, fuming as I headed toward the woman that I recognized as an authoritative figure there. “And why was this place stated as a community house and not a rehabilitation facility in the news? Have you all decided to bury the whole thing?” Damien added. The woman shook her head in denial almost immediately as she gave us a smile that seemed to be her attempt to calm us down. But it only made me angry. She knew that I was inquiring about my mother’s death that had taken place in that same building, and her nonchalance was getting me riled up. “Can we take this to the office? There are still people in here
Lauren's POV I stared at my phone, the digits of the unknown number that had just been used to call me glaring back at me as I dialed it and placed the phone against my ear. Three rings had come and gone, each one stretching into an agonizing eternity. No one had answered. I let out a frustrated breath, my fingers tightening around the device as if I could will the caller to pick up. Whoever was on the other end of that line was a shadow in the fog of my memories, a ghostly figure I couldn’t shake. The voice had been chilling, cold, and detached. The words had seared into my mind: “Aren’t you grateful that I spared your life?” That voice belonged to the person who had shattered my world, the one who had taken my mother from me. The rage that simmered within me was a constant companion, a reminder of the injustice I felt every waking moment. I shoved the phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on
It was the kind of day where even the sun seemed reluctant to shine. Damien’s car moved slowly along the winding road back to my house, the silence between us thick and heavy. The hum of the engine felt like the only thing holding me in reality. We had just left the rehab center where my mother had died, and I couldn’t shake the image of her lifeless body from my mind as I had to identify her. Damien glanced at me, his brow furrowed with concern. “Lauren, we’re going to find Alice,” he said, his voice steady. “I promise you that. And I’ll figure out what connection she has to your mother’s death.” I nodded, my eyes fixed on the passing trees. The pain of losing my mother was still too raw, too fresh. “Thank you,” I whispered, barely able to muster the energy to speak. He hesitated, then continued, “I think you should come to the city with me. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.” I sighed, the thought of leaving my the place where I w
Lauren's POV I stared at Damien, disbelief coursing through my veins. “What do you mean, the killer has been traced to my house?” My voice wavered despite my attempt to sound strong. Damien’s expression was a mixture of concern and frustration. “Lauren, you need to trust me on this. We have to leave now. Go to the second house in the city—the one I gave you as a wedding gift. It’s safer there.” His words barely registered. My mother’s killer here, in this house, possibly once again? The very thought sent a shiver down my spine. But I couldn’t just run away. Not now. Not after everything. “No,” I said firmly, my voice steadier now. “I’m not leaving. I’m calling the police.” I sat down on the edge of the bed, the old wood creaking under my weight. My hands shook as I picked up my phone and dialed the number on the police business card. Damien watched me, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t try to stop me. “Riverside police department. How may I—” “This
Lauren's POV The loud beeping sound filled the car, a reminder that something was terribly wrong. My pulse quickened, matching the rhythm of the noise, and I could see Damien’s knuckles whiten as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He glanced at me, a look of realization and fear passing over his face. “Lauren,” Damien’s voice was urgent, almost panicked. “We have to get out of the car.” “What do you mean?” I asked, my own voice trembling. The tension between us had been palpable ever since the incident at my house, but this was something else entirely. This was life or death. “There might be an explosive,” he said, his words cutting through the chaos in my mind like a knife. He immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road, his actions rapid and precise. Before I could react, he was leaning across me, fumbling with the door handle on my side. “You need to run. Now. As fast and as far as you can.” I stared at him, the gravity of the situati
Lauren's POV Damien had hired someone to break into my house and attack me. Even the thought of that was completely ridiculous that I chuckled as soon as the man in front of us said it. “I have never met you in my entire life,” Damien said to him, his voice strained as though he was holding back his anger and trying hard not to explode. “How dare you sit here with such confidence and try to frame me for this?” The man adjusted in his seat and glared at Damien without the slightest hint of fear in his eyes, and I found it strange. It was almost as if now that he had been caught, he was on a suicide mission and did not care what would happen to him. “Damien Goldberg,” he said. “I would not be stupid enough to accuse you of being my hirer in front of you if you weren’t the one who hired me. Tell your wife how you were bitter about her moving out and leaving, so you called me and—” Before he could get anywhere with his statement, the sound of a chair scrapi
Lauren's POV The night air was heavy, as if the darkness was pressing down on me. The tension between Damien and me had only grown. We had driven back to his place in silence, the weight of our unspoken thoughts hanging in the air between us. I could feel his eyes on me as I stared out the window, lost in my own world of unanswered questions. When we finally arrived at his living room, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Damien,” I started, turning to face him as soon as we stepped inside, “why did you bring me here instead of my own house?” He paused, his hand still on the door handle as if he was contemplating whether to answer me or not. Then, with a deep sigh, he let go of the door and moved closer, his eyes meeting mine. “Lauren,” he began, his voice calm but firm, “I won’t let you stay there alone until I’ve confronted my brother.” I stiffened at the mention of Jameson. The very person I was planning to confront myself. I needed to tread carefully, no