Chapter 4

The elevator went straight up, the numbers flashing by so quickly that my nerves were on edge.

Daxton stood beside me, gripping the baseball bat, looking ready to swing at a moment's notice.

I patted him on the shoulder, signaling him to stay calm. There was no need for violence today.

The call rang for a long time, so long that the elevator had already dinged and stopped on the eighth floor before she finally answered.

The screen flickered, and Leah's face appeared. She was wearing a pristine white hotel bathrobe, the neckline slightly open, her hair still wet and dripping.

Behind her, the background was a flawless white wall with a warm, yellow wall sconce. It certainly looked like the inside of some budget hotel room.

"Honey, why are you video-calling me all of a sudden? I just got out of the shower and was about to go to bed." She yawned at the camera, her eyes full of exhaustion.

She even remembered to ask about me. "The weather in Brockdale is awful. It's so humid that I feel uncomfortable all over. How about you? Is it cold in our city?"

Standing outside our apartment, I stared at the security door, and my lips curled into a cold smile.

"It's pretty cool. Anyway, which hotel are you staying at? How's the place?"

Leah's eyes flickered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "Oh, I'm staying at the hotel that the company booked. It's just a budget hotel with a bed and four walls. There's nothing special about it."

"Is that so?" I asked, keeping my voice level. "Show me."

"Show you what? There's really nothing to see here..."

"Turn the camera around. I want to have a look." My tone left no room for argument.

Leah seemed to sense the firmness in my voice, but she was clearly confident that she'd staged everything perfectly, so she gave in. "Alright, alright. If my boyfriend's checking on me, I suppose I must play along!"

She smiled, held up the phone, and slowly panned around.

In the frame, it was exactly as she'd described—a single bed with white sheets, a nightstand, and a white wall. There was no clutter, nor anything that belonged to a man. The scene had been staged flawlessly.

But just as she turned the camera and swept past the nightstand, my gaze froze. It was a dark brown, solid-wood nightstand, and on it was a glass of water, resting on a wooden coaster.

The coaster had a tiny chip in its upper-left corner. I'd made it myself last year when Leah and I visited Chessaville. We'd gone to a craft workshop, and I'd carved it by hand. There wasn't another one like it in the world, and it had always sat on the bedside table in the master bedroom of our apartment.

The moment I saw it, I was certain that Leah was in our bedroom.

In that instant, the last shred of hope I had left was completely destroyed. In its place was a cold, calm fury.

"Done looking, honey? See? There's really nothing special here to see." Leah turned the camera back to her face, smiling as though she had nothing to hide.

"Go get some sleep, honey. I have a meeting with a client first thing tomorrow morning."

I stood outside the security door, looking at the woman full of lies on my screen. I didn't end the call. Instead, I looked straight into the camera and gave her a cold, crooked smile. "Is that so? Then open the door for me."

Leah froze on the screen. "Open what door?"

I raised my hand and pressed the wake button on the smart keypad lock.

The crisp electronic chime echoed through the empty hallway, and the exact same sound came through my phone from Leah's end.

I watched her expression stiffen instantly.

"Open the door," I said, enunciating every word. "I drove back from my parents' house in the middle of the night to bring you a Thanksgiving gift."