Chapter 4

Nora's POV

I spend the night at the shelter. Four hours of sleep on a cot that smells like bleach and desperation. My body is wrecked. Bleeding through the pads they give postpartum women. Breasts leaking. Everything hurts.

But I drag myself up at seven because I need to meet Detective Chen at ten and get Dad's box before they throw it away.

The shower at the shelter is lukewarm and the water pressure is terrible but I stand under it anyway, watching blood and milk circle the drain. This is what I've become. Two days postpartum and homeless.

I put on the cleanest clothes I have left. Jeans that barely stay up because my body is different now. A t-shirt that hides the leaking. A jacket that's too warm for the weather but has pockets deep enough for all my important documents.

The coffee shop Detective Chen suggested is one of those chains that tries to look local but isn't. I get there fifteen minutes early and order black coffee I can't afford. Sit in the corner with my back to the wall.

She shows up right at ten. I recognize her immediately. Late thirties, Asian, wearing slacks and a blazer that screams cop even without the badge clipped to her belt. She scans the room, spots me, walks over.

"Nora Ashford?" she asks.

"That's me."

She sits across from me. Pulls out a notebook. "Thanks for meeting me. I know this must be a difficult time."

"You have no idea."

"Actually, I might." She gives me a look that's almost sympathetic. "I know about the surrogacy. The contract. What happened at the hospital."

My stomach drops. "How?"

"I've been investigating Marcus Wolfe for three months. Different case, but your name came up. When I saw the connection to William Ashford, I started looking deeper." She opens her notebook. "Your father's death was ruled a suicide. Drove his car off a bridge. But the autopsy report never sat right with me."

"Why not?"

"Bruising inconsistent with the crash. Traces of sedatives in his system. And the bridge he supposedly jumped from? Security cameras were conveniently offline that night." She looks at me. "I think someone killed your father and staged it to look like suicide."

I knew it. Deep down, I always knew Dad wouldn't do that. Wouldn't leave me like that.

"Who?" I ask.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. But the timing is interesting. Your father's company was developing breakthrough AI technology. Worth billions. Three weeks before he died, Marcus Wolfe made an offer to buy the company. Your father refused. Two weeks later, he's dead. One week after that, Wolfe Industries acquires the technology for pennies through bankruptcy proceedings."

The coffee tastes like acid. "You think Marcus killed my father?"

"I think it's worth investigating. But I need evidence. Witnesses. Anything you might know about their business relationship."

"I don't know anything. I was twenty-one when Dad died. He didn't talk to me about work stuff."

"Did he seem worried? Scared? Did he mention Wolfe at all?"

I try to remember. Those last few weeks are blurry. I was in college, focused on finals. Dad was stressed but I thought it was just work. Normal startup stress.

"He mentioned a meeting," I say slowly. "Said some tech guy was trying to buy him out but the offer was insulting. He laughed about it. Didn't seem scared."

Chen writes something down. "Did he keep records? Files? Anything at home?"

"There's a box. His personal stuff from the office. I never went through it."

"Where is it?"

"Storage unit at my old building. I'm supposed to pick it up today before they trash it."

"I'll come with you," she says. "If there's anything relevant in there, I need to see it."

We finish our coffee and head to my old apartment building. Ray is at the front desk. He looks uncomfortable when he sees me.

"The storage unit," I tell him. "I'm here to get my father's box."

He nods, doesn't meet my eyes, leads us down to the basement. The storage unit is small, mostly empty except for a few boxes I left behind. Dad's box is in the corner. Dusty. Taped shut.

Chen helps me carry it to her car. We drive to a diner a few blocks away, get a booth in the back, and open it.

Inside are files. Lots of files. Technical documents I don't understand. Contracts. Emails. And at the bottom, a journal.

I pick it up. Dad's handwriting. Dated entries from the last six months of his life.

I flip to the last page. The entry from two days before he died.

"Marcus Wolfe is stealing everything. The code. The patents. He's got someone inside feeding him information. I confronted him today. He laughed. Said I couldn't prove anything. Said if I tried, I'd regret it. If something happens to me, it wasn't an accident. Check the—"

The sentence cuts off. Page torn.

My hands shake. "He knew. He knew Marcus was going to kill him."

Chen is reading over my shoulder. "Can I take this? All of it?"

"Take whatever you need."

She starts packing files into her bag. "This is good, Nora. This could be what I need to build a case. But I have to warn you, going after someone like Marcus Wolfe is dangerous. He has money. Lawyers. Influence. If he finds out you're helping me—"

"I don't care."

"You should. He's already destroyed your life once. He won't hesitate to do it again."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Let him get away with murdering my father?"

Chen is quiet for a moment. "I'm saying be careful. Don't do anything stupid. Let me handle the investigation."

But I'm already thinking. Already planning. Marcus took everything from me. My father. My daughter. My future. I have nothing left to lose.

"I need to go," I tell Chen. "There's something I need to do."

"Nora—"

"I'll be careful."

I leave before she can stop me. Walk six blocks to the coffee shop where Jade and I used to meet. The one near her apartment. Our spot. Back when we were actually friends.

I text her from a borrowed phone at the shelter. "We need to talk. Meet me at Grounded in an hour."

She doesn't respond for ten minutes. Then: "I don't think that's a good idea."

"One conversation. That's all I'm asking."

Another pause. "Fine. One hour."

I get there early again. Order water this time because I'm almost out of money. Sit at our old table by the window.

Jade shows up forty-five minutes late. She's wearing workout clothes that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Hair perfect. Makeup perfect. Phone in her hand.

She sits across from me but doesn't order anything. "What do you want, Nora?"

"I want to understand why."

"Why what?"

"Why you did this to me. We were friends, Jade. Best friends."

She sighs like I'm being tedious. "That was a long time ago."

"Ten months ago you asked me to carry your baby. That's not a long time."

"And you agreed. Nobody forced you."

"You lied to me. You said you couldn't get pregnant. That it was dangerous."

Jade examines her nails. They're French-tipped. Professionally done. "I never said I couldn't. I said it was risky. Which is true. Pregnancy ruins your body. Look at you."

I glance down at myself. Swollen stomach. Stained shirt. Unwashed hair because the shelter shower barely works. She's right. I look destroyed.

"You could've told me the truth," I say.

"What truth? That I didn't want to gain fifty pounds and get stretch marks? That I have a career that depends on how I look? You wouldn't have understood."

"So you used me."

"I gave you an opportunity. One hundred thousand dollars for nine months of work. That's more than you'd make in three years at your little coffee shop job."

"I didn't get one hundred thousand dollars."

She smiles. Actually smiles. "No, you didn't. Because you couldn't follow simple instructions."

"What instructions? I did everything you asked."

"You got attached. You started acting like the baby was yours. Asking questions about names and nursery colors and trying to be involved in decisions that weren't yours to make."

"I asked two questions in nine months."

"It was inappropriate. The contract was clear about boundaries."

I stare at her. This person across from me looks like Jade but she's not. She's someone else entirely. Someone I never really knew.

"Did you ever care about me?" I ask. "At all? Or was I always just useful?"

"Of course I cared. We were friends. But friends help each other, right? You needed money. I needed a surrogate. It was perfect."

"Perfect for you."

"It would've been perfect for you too if you hadn't violated the contract." She leans back, crosses her legs. "Honestly, Nora, you brought this on yourself."

"Marcus murdered my father."

The words come out before I can stop them. Jade's expression doesn't change. Not surprise. Not shock. Nothing.

"That's a serious accusation," she says carefully.

"It's true. He stole Dad's technology. And when Dad tried to stop him, Marcus had him killed."

"You have proof of this?"

"I'm getting it."

"Good luck with that." She checks her phone. "Is that all? Because I have a mommy-and-me yoga class in thirty minutes."

Mommy-and-me. With my daughter.

"How is she?" The question slips out. I shouldn't ask. I signed the NDA. But I can't help it.

Jade's smile widens. "She's perfect. Sleeping through the night already. Everyone says she looks just like Marcus."

"What's her name?"

"That's none of your business anymore."

"I carried her for nine months. I think I have a right to know her name."

"You have no rights. You signed them all away. Remember?" She stands up, slinging her designer bag over her shoulder. "You know what your problem is, Nora? You don't know your place. You never did. That's why you're here, broken and homeless, while I'm living my best life."

Something snaps inside me.

"You were never infertile," I say. Not a question. A statement.

Jade pauses. "Excuse me?"

"You lied about the medical issues. You just didn't want to ruin your figure."

She shrugs. "So what if I did? My body, my choice, right? Isn't that what you feminists always say?"

"You used my body instead."

"You got paid. Or you would have, if you'd kept your mouth shut and played your part." She leans down, voice dropping low. "Here's the truth, sweetheart. Marcus and I have been together since before you signed the contract. We were engaged. Planning our future. The surrogate was always part of the plan. We just needed someone desperate enough to agree. Someone we could control. You were perfect."

The coffee shop spins around me. "You're lying."

"Am I? Think about it. All those appointments where he barely looked at you. The way he'd leave the room when you entered. He was disgusted, Nora. You were just a warm incubator. A rented womb. Nothing more."

I stand up so fast my chair scrapes against the floor. People are looking now. I don't care.

"You're a monster," I say.

"I'm pragmatic. There's a difference." She pulls her phone out, taps something. "Oh, and Nora? Everything we just said? I recorded it. The part where you accused Marcus of murder. That's slander. I could sue you into oblivion."

My blood runs cold. "What?"

She shows me her phone screen. Recording app. Red timer counting. She stops it, saves the file. "Consider it insurance. In case you get any ideas about going to the press or causing trouble. One word from you about the surrogacy, about Marcus, about anything, and I'll bury you in lawsuits you can't afford to fight."

"You can't do that."

"I just did." She slips the phone back in her bag. "Stay away from my family, Nora. Stay away from my daughter. Move on with your pathetic little life and forget we ever existed."

She turns to leave.

I don't think. I just move.

My hand connects with her face before I realize what I'm doing. The slap echoes through the coffee shop. Jade stumbles back, hand flying to her cheek.

For a second, there's silence. Everyone staring.

Then Jade starts laughing.

"Thank you," she says. "I was hoping you'd do something stupid."

She pulls her phone out again. Switches to the camera. Takes a photo of her reddening cheek. Then another. And another.

"Assault," she says, still smiling. "Witnessed by at least a dozen people. Along with the slander. Oh, Nora. You just made this so easy."

The barista is coming around the counter. "Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I look at Jade. At her perfect face and her perfect smile and the phone in her hand that's going to destroy what's left of my life.

"You won't get away with this," I say.

"I already have." She touches her cheek gingerly. "You should go. Before I call the police and have you arrested."

I grab my bag and walk out. My legs are shaking. My whole body is shaking.

I slapped her. I actually slapped her.

And she recorded everything.

I make it two blocks before I have to stop and lean against a building. My breath comes in short gasps. Panic attack. I've had them before, after Dad died, but never this bad.

A stranger asks if I'm okay. I wave them off. Force myself to breathe.

She has proof now. Video of me accusing Marcus of murder. Photos of me assaulting her. Witnesses.

I'm so stupid. So incredibly stupid.

My phone buzzes. Text from an unknown number.

"Assault charges will be filed by end of day unless you agree to the following: 1) Leave New York immediately. 2) Never contact us again. 3) Delete any evidence related to Marcus or the surrogacy. You have two hours to respond."

It's not signed but I know it's from Jade. Or Marcus. Or their lawyers.

Two hours to give up everything.

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the sidewalk. People step around me. Nobody stops.

What am I supposed to do? Fight them with no money and no lawyer? They'll bury me.

My phone buzzes again. Different number. Detective Chen.

"Found something in your father's files. We need to talk. Can you come to the station?"

I stare at the message. Then at Jade's threat.

Two hours.

I push myself to my feet. My body screams in protest but I ignore it.

They want me to run. To disappear. To give up.

But if Chen found something, if there's actual evidence that Marcus killed Dad, then maybe I have a chance. A real chance.

Not just for me. For Dad. For the daughter I'll never know.

I text Chen back. "On my way."

Then I delete Jade's message without responding.

Let her file assault charges. Let her come after me with her lawyers and her money and her threats.

I have nothing left to lose.

And that makes me dangerous.