Chapter 3

"Don't touch it," Zoe said.

"It's a flash drive, not a bomb."

"It came from a man on a motorbike who hid his face. That's how bombs arrive."

Aria dug an old laptop out of her bottom drawer. It was dusty, offline, and ugly. She had kept it for exactly this kind of day, though she'd never imagined it would be this one.

She plugged in the drive.

One folder. One file. A video.

She pressed play.

The footage was grainy, shot from a parked car. A restaurant entrance. Night. A woman stepped out in a long cream coat, hair tied back, a leather folder under her arm.

She turned toward the camera.

Zoe gasped.

The woman had Aria's coat. Aria's folder. Aria's walk.

But when the streetlight hit her face, she was a stranger. Same height. Same dark hair. Different mouth. Different eyes.

"That's not you," Zoe breathed.

"No."

"Someone dressed up as you."

"Six years ago." Aria's voice was flat. "Two days before the memo."

On the screen, Jaxon Pierce stepped out behind the woman. He laughed. He kissed her cheek. Then he pulled a thick envelope from his jacket and pressed it into her hand.

Zoe's fingers dug into Aria's arm. "He paid her."

"To be seen with him."

"Why?"

Aria stared at the frozen frame. Her mind was already running the math. A photo of her with Jaxon. A memo with Kai's name. A wife who believed her husband had sold her out.

"If Kai ever asked me about that dinner," she said slowly, "I'd have had no alibi. If I ever asked him, he'd have no answer. They built two lies so we'd never trust each other long enough to compare them."

Zoe sat down hard. "That is evil. That is spreadsheet evil."

"It worked."

"Then Kai is telling the truth."

"Maybe." Aria pulled the photograph toward her and looked at the block letters on the back. "Or someone wants me to think so."

HE IS LYING ABOUT THE MEMO.

DO NOT GO TONIGHT.

ASK HIM WHY HE KEPT YOUR RING.

"Two notes," Zoe said. "Two handwritings. Two opposite messages."

"One of them is lying."

"Or both."

Aria closed the laptop. Her hands had stopped shaking. That was how she knew she had decided.

"I'm going."

"Aria."

"If Kai lied, I'll see it in his face. I always could."

"You also believed a memo for six years."

That stung. It was meant to.

"Which is why I need to see the box myself," Aria said quietly.

Zoe studied her for a long moment. Then she grabbed her car keys.

"Fine. But I'm bringing the umbrella."

~

At 7:50 p.m., the loading dock on Fifth Street was a black mouth between two glass towers.

Zoe killed the headlights. Her small car idled at the end of the alley.

"Phone on," Zoe said. "Location shared. If you're not out in twenty minutes, I'm calling the police, then your mother, then the police again."

"Why my mother?"

"Because she's scarier."

Aria almost smiled. She stepped out into the cold.

The gate was open, exactly as promised. A single yellow bulb flickered above a steel door. Beneath it stood Kai, in a dark coat, collar up, hands shoved in his pockets.

He looked like he'd been standing there for hours.

"You came," he said.

"Don't make it a moment."

"It's already a moment."

"Kai."

"Right. Sorry." He held the door open. "Stairs. Six flights down. Stay close and don't talk until I say."

"Why?"

"Cameras. I've looped the sub-basement feed for thirty minutes. After that, someone will notice."

"Someone like Jaxon."

His eyes cut to hers. "Yes."

They went down in silence. Concrete walls. Humming pipes. The air grew colder with every flight. Aria counted her breaths and tried not to count his footsteps behind her.

On the fifth landing, she stopped.

"Why did you keep my ring?"

Kai went still.

Three steps above her, he looked like he'd been slapped.

"Who told you that?"

"Answer me."

"Aria..."

"Why did you keep it?"

His hand rose slowly to his collar. He pulled the silver chain free.

The ring hung at the end of it. Thin gold band. A tiny scratch on the inside where she'd dropped it on their wedding night and laughed for ten minutes.

Her throat closed.

"I found it on the pillow," he said. His voice was rough. "The morning after you left. I thought you'd come back for it. I waited a month. Then a year. Then I stopped pretending I was waiting."

"You wore it."

"Every day."

"You never called."

"You blocked my number in the first hour."

"You never came to my door."

"You sent my letter back unopened."

They stared at each other. Six years of anger sat between them like furniture neither of them knew how to move.

"Who knows you kept it?" Aria asked.

"No one."

"Someone does."

"I swear..." He stopped. His face changed. Color drained out of it. "Wait."

"What?"

"One person." He swallowed. "The night you left, I got drunk. Properly drunk. I went to Jaxon's apartment and told him everything. The ring. The pillow. All of it. He poured me water and said he'd keep it between us."

The stairwell went very quiet.

"So the second note," Aria whispered.

"What second note?"

She pulled the photograph from her bag and held it out. Kai read the block capitals. His jaw locked.

"This was written by someone who knew about the ring," he said. "Someone who wanted me to look like a liar."

"Jaxon."

"Jaxon." His fist closed around the chain. "He's been in my life for ten years, and I didn't see it."

"He was careful."

"He was patient." Kai's eyes were wet and furious. "He didn't just take you from me. He built a whole story around it and let me live inside it."

Aria said nothing. She was thinking of the cream coat. The envelope. The kiss on a stranger's cheek.

She was thinking: he's telling the truth.

And then, because she was a lawyer, she thought: or he's very, very good.

"Show me the box," she said.

~

The sub-basement archive was a long room of steel shelves and sleeping paper. Kai led her down the third aisle, counting under his breath. He stopped at shelf 14C.

"It was here."

He pulled out a gray archive box and set it on the table.

Lid on. Label intact. ASHFORD, MISC, SEALED.

His hands shook as he lifted the lid.

Empty.

Not a page. Not a folder. Not a paperclip.

"No." Kai's voice cracked. "No. It was full yesterday. The memo was right here. I photographed it."

"Photographed it where?"

"On my phone."

"Show me."

He pulled out his phone. Opened the gallery. Scrolled.

His face went blank.

"Kai."

"They're gone." He scrolled faster. "The photos. All of them. I didn't delete them. I didn't..."

Somewhere behind them, a door clicked shut.

Aria spun around.

The aisle was empty. Rows of shelves vanished into shadow. The overhead lights hummed, then dimmed, one panel at a time, creeping toward them like a tide.

"Kai," she whispered. "You said thirty minutes."

"I looped the feed."

"Someone un-looped it."

He grabbed her hand without thinking. His fingers were ice. Hers were no better.

Slow footsteps echoed down the far end of the aisle.

Unhurried. Polished. Almost cheerful.

A familiar voice floated out of the dark.

"Aria. Kai." Applause, soft and mocking. "Right on time."

Jaxon Pierce stepped into the light, smiling, and in his left hand he held a small black remote.

"Now," he said gently, "let's talk about what you two think you know."