Chapter 12

I don’t remember walking home that night.

My mind was too full, replaying my father’s words over and over, each repetition sinking like an anchor into my chest. Daniel knows… the truth about the accident.

The accident. The one that broke my father’s body and left him clinging to borrowed time.

The one I’d told myself was nothing more than a cruel chance. But now? Now the ground under me cracked wide open.

And yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to believe Pierce was at the center of it all.

It was too neat, too obvious. My gut said the truth was uglier, more complicated, and Daniel was somehow tied to it.

The next morning, I buried myself in work. Or tried to. The office, usually my refuge, now felt like a trap.

The eviction notice was still taped to the glass outside; I hadn’t had the heart or courage to peel it down.

Inside, the place buzzed with nervous energy. Volunteers whispered in corners, throwing me uncertain looks.

A couple of donors had already pulled out after hearing rumors. And the worst blow came mid-morning, in an email from our largest supplier:

We regret to inform you that, due to unforeseen corporate pressures, we must suspend all deliveries effective immediately.

I stared at the screen, bile rising in my throat. Corporate pressures. That was no coincidence. Someone was pulling strings, and I already knew whose shadow lingered behind the curtain.

Still, I refused to let Pierce take everything from me.

I opened our financials, scanning invoices, donation logs, board expenses, anything that could hint at where the bleeding started.

Hours passed, the numbers blurring, until something jumped out.

A transaction. Small, hidden in operational costs. A “consulting f*e” paid to a name I didn’t recognize: Elias Grant.

My stomach tightened. That wasn’t any vendor I’d ever approved.

And the payment hadn’t been signed off on by me. It had been pushed through someone with limited access.

I checked the user ID attached to the authorization. My throat went dry.

It was Caroline.

Sweet, eager Caroline, our youngest volunteer.

She’d been with me almost two years, often working late without complaint, always smiling when the rest of us were drowning.

Why would she do this?

I didn’t tell anyone what I’d found. Not yet. The betrayal cut too deep, and I needed to be sure before I confronted her.

Instead, I called Daniel.

He picked up on the first ring. “Jane.” His voice was low, urgent, like he’d been waiting for me.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Where?”

“Not here. Somewhere private.”

He suggested his loft downtown. Against my better judgment, I agreed.

When I arrived, I felt the pull of old memories, uninvited. The way his eyes used to search mine for answers. The warmth of his hand at the small of my back. How, once upon a time, I thought he was my future.

Now he was nothing but questions wrapped in danger.

I stood stiffly in his sleek, glass-walled living room, refusing to sit. “Someone inside my nonprofit is feeding information to Pierce.”

Daniel’s expression hardened. “Who?”

“I’m not ready to say. But it’s someone I trusted.” I paused, then met his eyes. “And I think you knew this was happening.”

His jaw clenched. “Jane—”

“No,” I snapped. “Don’t give me half-answers again. My father is lying in a hospital bed because of an accident you won’t talk about. My nonprofit is crumbling under targeted pressure. And now you’re telling me Pierce just conveniently shows up at the exact right moments? You know more than you’re admitting.”

His gaze flickered with something raw, regret, maybe even guilt. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d finally confess.

Instead, he said, “If I told you everything, you’d never look at me the same way again.”

The words sent a shiver through me, equal parts fury and longing.

“Then give me a reason not to walk away,” I whispered.

Silence stretched. The air between us was charged.

Daniel stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. Old sparks flared, colliding with the distrust choking me. For one dangerous second, I thought he might kiss me.

I turned away before he could. “I can’t do this.”

That night, unable to bear the not knowing, I went back to the office. Caroline was there, typing away, headphones in, humming softly to herself.

“Caroline,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

She jumped, pulling her headphones out. “Jane! You scared me.”

I walked to her desk, forcing calm. “Who’s Elias Grant?”

Her face drained of color.

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me.” My voice cracked with anger. “You authorized a payment to him last week. A consulting f*e. Who is he?”

Caroline’s eyes darted, searching for escape. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “He… he works for Pierce.”

The world tilted.

“You’ve been spying on me?” I whispered.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she blurted. “He said if I didn’t help him, he’d ruin my family. My brother owes money, bad money. Pierce found out. He promised he’d erase the debt if I just… kept him updated. That’s all. Just little things.”

Little things. That was how it always started.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” My voice broke. “You’ve put everything at risk. Everyone. My father—”

Caroline’s tears spilled over. “I’m so sorry, Jane. I didn’t mean—”

“Get out,” I said. My hands trembled, but my voice was cold. “You’re finished here.”

She fled, sobbing, leaving me alone with the crushing weight of betrayal.

By the time I returned home, my phone was buzzing again, another message from the same unknown number.

This time, no photo. Just words.

Your clock is running out. 48 hours.

I wanted to throw the phone against the wall, to scream until the city cracked open. Instead, I slid to the floor, back against the door, clutching the phone so tightly my knuckles whitened.

They were watching, always watching.

I couldn’t keep carrying this alone. For all my mistrust, Daniel was the only person with enough power to fight Pierce.

So I called him again. “Midnight. Meet me at the old train yard.”

The place was abandoned, silent except for the occasional rumble of a passing subway deep below. When he arrived, the tension between us was palpable, thrumming like an electric wire.

“I found her,” I said, the words spilling out. “Caroline. She’s been working for Pierce. Feeding him information from inside.”

Daniel’s face darkened. “I warned you he wouldn’t stop. He plants people everywhere.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why me? Why my nonprofit?”

Daniel hesitated. Then, quietly, “Because of me.”

My chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”

He looked at me with haunted eyes. “Pierce and I, we were partners once. Years ago, before I walked away, he never forgave me. And now he’s using you to get to me.”

My blood ran cold. Pieces clicked into place, horrifying in their clarity.

“So all of this,” I whispered, “is because of you.”

Daniel reached for me, desperate. “Jane—”

Before he could say more, my phone buzzed again. A new notification.

I glanced down and froze.

It was a live video feed.

My father’s hospital room.

The frame shook slightly, as though someone were holding the camera. A masked man leaned over my father’s bed, his gloved hand brushing the rail.

Then he looked straight into the camera and whispered, clear as a knife slicing through the night:

“Time’s up, Jane. Choose, or watch him die.”

The feed cut out.

I stood there, phone in hand, the night air thick around me, my pulse hammering.

For the first time, I couldn’t tell if my father’s fate or mine was still in my hands at all.

And worse… I had no idea which man, Daniel or Pierce, had just tightened the noose.