The Truth About 2023

I threw the phone across the room. 

"I told you this place wasn't secure!" Ethan was already on the phone, yelling at someone. "I want every camera checked. Every guard questioned. Now!" 

I couldn't stop shaking. 

"He was in my room," I said. "David's people were in my room while I slept." 

"They weren't in the room," Ethan said quickly. "It was taken from outside. The angle. See?" He pulled the photo up on his tablet and zoomed. "That's the tree line. 30 yards away. With a telephoto lens." 

"That's not better," I said. "That means they were watching me for hours." 

Ethan hung up. "We're leaving. Now. New location. No one knows but me and Ms. Reyes." 

I nodded. But my brain was stuck on one thing. 

"They knew where we were," I said. "Which means someone told them." 

Ethan went still. 

"Don't," he said. 

"Don't what?" 

"Don't think like that," he said. "My people are loyal." 

"So was my dad," I said. "And David still got to him." 

Ethan didn't answer. He just grabbed my bag and my hand. 

We drove for an hour. No destination I recognized. 

Finally we pulled up to a house. Not a penthouse. Not a mansion. 

A small cottage by a lake. Fence around it. Two guards at the gate. 

"Safe," Ethan said. "For now." 

Inside, it smelled like wood and coffee. There were books on the shelves. A dog bed in the corner, even though there was no dog. 

It felt... human. 

I sank onto the couch. 

Ethan handed me tea. "Drink this." 

"I can't," I said. "Not until we figure out who sent that photo." 

"Then we figure it out," Ethan said. "But not tonight. Tonight you rest." 

I looked at him. "Ethan, my dad was murdered. David killed him. And now they're watching me again. I can't rest." 

Ethan sat next to me. Close Enough.

"Then talk," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking." 

So I did. 

"2023," I said. "I need to know what really happened. Not the hospital version. Not David's version. The truth." 

Ethan sighed. "Sarah—" 

"No," I said. "I watched the video of my dad dying. I saw the nurse's recording. I have the photo of David with the knife. But there's still a gap. Between the night I was stabbed and the day I woke up in the hospital. Two weeks. What happened in those two weeks?" 

Ethan was quiet for a long time. 

"There are things you don't remember for a reason," he said. 

"And there are things I need to remember to survive," I said. 

Ethan looked at me. Then he stood. 

"Come with me." 

He led me to a back room. Office. 

On the desk: a folder. Plain. No label. 

"I've been holding onto this," Ethan said. "Because I wasn't sure if you were ready." 

He opened it. 

Inside: medical records. Therapy notes. Police reports I’d never seen. 

And letters. 

Handwritten. 

My handwriting. 

"What is this?" I said. 

"Letters you wrote," Ethan said. "While you were in the hospital. In 2023. You were in and out. Sedated. But on the good days, you wrote." 

My hands were shaking as I picked one up. 

" Day 4. 

I don't know where I am. A nurse said hospital. My head hurts. David was here. He said I fell. I don't think I fell. I remember a knife. I remember blood. I remember him smiling. 

I need to call dad.”

My chest hurt. 

Another. 

“Day 9. 

They won't let me use the phone. David says it's for my own good. He says I'm confused. He says I tried to hurt myself. That's not true. I wouldn't do that. 

I miss my dad. Is he okay?" 

Another. 

" Day 12. 

Dad's not answering. David says he had a heart attack. I don't believe him. Dad was healthy. David is lying. I know he is. 

I tried to leave today. Two nurses held me down. They gave me something. I can't feel my legs.” 

I dropped the letter. 

"I was a prisoner," I whispered. 

"Yes," Ethan said. "He had you committed. Voluntary, he said. But you didn't sign anything. He forged it." 

"How do you know all this?" I said. 

Ethan looked away. "Because I was there." 

The room went silent. 

"What?" 

"I was there," Ethan said. "Day 10. I came to see you." 

I stared at him. 

"You?" 

Ethan nodded. "We met once. At a tech conference. 2022. You gave a speech about Miller Tech's new AI. I was in the audience. I... I remembered you." 

"And you came to the hospital?" 

"David called me," Ethan said. "Said you were asking for me. Said you were 'delusional' and needed a friend." 

I felt sick. 

"What did I say?" 

Ethan's jaw tightened. "You didn't recognize me. You were drugged. But you grabbed my hand and you said, 'Don't let him hurt me again.' Then the nurses came in and kicked me out." 

Tears were falling down my face. 

"You tried to help me," I said. 

"I tried," Ethan said. "And I failed. By the time I got lawyers involved, you were discharged. Into David's care." 

I picked up another letter. 

" Day 14. 

Last day. David says I can go home today. He says I need to sign some papers. He says it's for the insurance. I don't trust him. But I have nowhere else to go. Dad's gone. 

If I don't make it, tell someone. Tell anyone. He did this.”

That was the last one. 

I put it down. 

"He lied to me for three years," I said. "About my dad. About the stabbing. About me." 

"Yes," Ethan said. 

"And you knew?" 

"I suspected," Ethan said. "After that day in the hospital. I hired a PI. But David was good. He buried everything." 

I stood up. Walked to the window. 

The lake was dark. 

"So 2023 wasn't an accident," I said. "It was attempted murder. And then kidnapping. And then fraud." 

"Yes," Ethan said. 

"And my dad knew," I said. "He knew David was going to come for him. That's why he left the USB." 

"Yes," Ethan said. 

I turned. "Ethan, why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

Ethan looked pained. "Because you were broken. Because I didn't have proof. Because I was scared if I told you, David would finish the job." 

"So you made a contract with me instead," I said. 

"I made a contract with you because it was the only way to get close to you legally," Ethan said. "Without David calling it harassment." 

I laughed. It was bitter. 

"All of this. The fake engagement. The gala. The shares. It was to save me?" 

"It was to save you," Ethan said. "And I think... I think I started doing it for that reason. And then it became something else." 

"What?" 

Ethan stepped closer. "You." 

My phone buzzed. 

Not my phone. Ethan's. 

He looked at it. His face went hard. 

"What?" I said. 

"It's Marcus," Ethan said. "He traced the photo." 

"And?" 

"It came from inside," Ethan said. "From someone on my security team." 

The floor dropped out from under me. 

"Who?" 

Ethan's jaw was clenched. "I don't know yet. But Marcus said the email was sent from a device registered to... me." 

"What?" 

"Someone used my laptop. My login. To send the photo." 

"That's impossible," I said. "You were with me all night." 

"I know," Ethan said. "Which means someone has access to my things. To my house. To me." 

He looked at me. 

"Sarah, there's a leak. In my inner circle." 

I felt cold. 

"David," I said. "He has someone on the inside." 

"Looks like it," Ethan said. 

My phone buzzed again. 

Unknown number. 

I answered without thinking. 

"Sarah." 

Not David. 

A woman's voice. 

Young. Familiar. 

"Who is this?" I said. 

"You don't know me," the woman said. "But I work for Mr. Blackwood." 

Ethan's eyes snapped to me. 

"Put it on speaker," he mouthed. 

I did. 

"What do you want?" I said. 

"I want to help you," the woman said. "Because what Mr. Blackwood is doing to you is wrong." 

"What is he doing?" I said. 

"He's using you," the woman said. "The contract. The engagement. The company. None of it is real. He set it all up to take Miller Tech from you." 

Ethan froze. 

"What are you talking about?" I said. 

"The deal," the woman said. "The one you signed. There's a clause. If you and Mr. Blackwood get married, he gets 51% of Miller Tech. Automatically." 

My blood went cold. 

"That's not true," I said. 

"Check the contract," the woman said. "Page 17. Clause 8B. He hid it. He knew you wouldn't read it." 

She hung up. 

Ethan and I stared at each other. 

"Get the contract," I said. My voice was shaking. 

Ethan pulled it up on his laptop. Scrolled. 

Page 17. 

Clause 8B. 

" In the event of legal marriage between Party A [Ethan Blackwood] and Party B [Sarah Miller], all controlling shares of Miller Tech currently held by Party B shall be transferred to a joint holding, with Party A retaining majority voting rights." 

I couldn't breathe. 

"Is this real?" I said. 

Ethan looked sick. "Yes. It's real. I... I didn't put it there. My lawyer did. Standard clause. For protection. In case—" 

"In case what?" I said. "In case you married me and took my company?" 

"No," Ethan said. "Sarah, listen to me. I never intended to use it. I swear." 

"But you didn't tell me," I said. "You hid it." 

"I forgot about it," Ethan said. "It's boilerplate. We use it in every merger." 

"That's not the point," I said. "The point is you lied. Again." 

"I didn't lie," Ethan said. "I just didn't—" 

"Didn't what?" I said. "Didn't think I deserved to know? Didn't think it mattered?" 

"Sarah—" 

"Don't," I said. "Just don't." 

I grabbed my bag. 

"Where are you going?" Ethan said. 

"Away from you," I said. "Away from all of you." 

"Sarah, it's not safe. There's someone watching us—" 

"I don't care," I said. "I'd rather take my chances with David than stay here and wonder if the man who saved me is the same man trying to steal from me." 

I walked out. 

Ethan didn't follow. 

I didn't have anywhere to go. 

So I went to the one place I knew David wouldn't be. 

My dad's office. 

Miller Tech. 2 AM. 

Empty and quiet. 

I sat in his chair. 

And I opened the contract. 

Page 17. Clause 8B. 

It was there. 

I read it again. And again. 

Legal language. Boring. Hidden. 

He could have told me. 

He should have told me. 

My phone buzzed. 

Unknown number. 

I answered. 

"Sarah?" 

David. 

From jail. 

"How are you calling me?" I said. 

"I have friends," David said. "And I have news." 

"What?" 

"That contract you're reading," David said. "It's real. And Ethan knows it. And he's going to use it." 

"You're lying," I said. 

"Am I?" David said. "Ask him why he hired me three years ago to consult on Miller Tech. Ask him why he was at my wedding. Ask him why he was the one who introduced us." 

My heart stopped. 

"What?" 

"You heard me," David said. "Ethan Blackwood set you and me up. He wanted you out of the way so he could buy Miller Tech cheap. I was just his pawn." 

"That's not true," I said. But my voice shook. 

"Isn't it?" David said. "Then ask him, Sarah. Ask him about the meeting. June 1, 2023. The Four Seasons. Him, me, and your dad." 

He hung up. 

I sat there. 

Shaking. 

June 1, 2023. 

Three days before my dad died. 

Three days before I was stabbed. 

I grabbed my keys. 

I had to know. 

I had to ask him. 

I drove to Ethan's house. The penthouse. 

Burst through the door. 

"Ethan!" 

He was in the living room. On the phone. 

He hung up when he saw me. 

"Sarah? What are you—" 

"June 1, 2023," I said. "The Four Seasons. You. David. My dad. What happened?" 

Ethan's face went blank. 

"Sarah, I don't—" 

"Don't lie to me," I said. "Did you set me up? Did you set my dad up? Did you set this whole thing up?" 

Ethan was quiet. Too quiet. 

Then he said, "Yes." 

The word hit me like a slap. 

"What?" 

"I met with David," Ethan said. "On June 1. Your dad was supposed to be there. He didn't show." 

"Why?" I said. 

"Because David told me your dad was selling Miller Tech," Ethan said. "To a Chinese firm. For nothing. He said you were in danger. He said I needed to help." 

"And you believed him?" 

"I was 26 and stupid," Ethan said. "And I was in love with your work. I thought I was saving the company." 

"So you helped him?" I said. 

"I didn't know he was going to hurt you," Ethan said. "I swear to God, Sarah. I didn't know." 

I backed away. 

"You knew," I said. "You knew and you still made the contract. You still hid clause 8B. You still—" 

"I did it to protect you!" Ethan said. "Because after what happened to you, I knew I had to get close. I had to—" 

"Get close to take my company?" I said. 

"No," Ethan said. "To protect it. To protect you." 

I shook my head. 

"I don't know what's real anymore," I said. "I don't know who to trust." 

Ethan stepped toward me. "Trust me." 

"Why should I?" 

"Because I love you," Ethan said. 

The words hung in the air. 

I stared at him. 

"Don't," I said. "Don't say that." 

"I do," Ethan said. "I have for a year. Since the hospital. Since you grabbed my hand and begged me not to let him hurt you." 

Tears were falling again. 

"You should have told me," I said. 

"I should have," Ethan said. "I'm sorry." 

I looked at him. At the man who saved me. Who lied to me. Who maybe loved me. 

And I didn't know what to believe. 

My phone buzzed. 

Text. Unknown number. 

A photo. 

Of Ethan. 

And David. 

Sitting together. 

June 1, 2023. 

The Four Seasons. 

Caption: " Pick a side, Sarah. 24 hours."