LOGINHenry's POVThe alert came through at 2:17 a.m.I was still awake, staring at the ceiling of my penthouse, replaying every conversation I’d had with Naomi over the past weeks. Every pause. Every look she held too long. Every question she didn’t ask out loud.My phone buzzed once on the nightstand.Just once.That was enough.I reached for it, already knowing what I would see. The screen lit up with a single line from a system I’d hoped would stay silent forever.ACCESS GRANTED — MONRO FILES.My chest tightened so hard I had to sit up.“No,” I muttered. “No, no, no.”I swung my legs off the bed and stood, running a hand through my hair. The city lights outside my windows blurred as memory slammed into me all at once.Naomi had opened it.She had found the name.She had crossed the line her father had drawn in blood and silence.I opened the secure channel, fingers moving fast, heart pounding.She had accessed everything. The core files. The private records. The ones only three people h
Naomi's POVI waited until the apartment was quiet again.Not just quiet in sound, but in feeling. The kind of quiet that comes after someone leaves their weight behind. Asher’s presence always lingered. In the air. In the walls. In my chest.I locked the door. Then I locked it again.My laptop sat on the table where I’d left it, the flash drive still plugged in, small and innocent-looking. Like it hadn’t already torn my life apart.I sat down slowly, my heart beating hard enough to make my hands shake.“Okay,” I whispered. “One more time.”The password box stared back at me. Cold. Patient. Her name.Not my mother’s real name. Not the one on documents. Not the one she used with the world.The name she used with me. I closed my eyes and leaned back, letting my head rest against the chair. I let myself drift, not into logic, not into fear, but into memory.I was five. Maybe six. Sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging my legs while my father cooked. My mother stood behind me, brushing
Naomi's POVIt was as if they would go to wipe me out. I didn’t sleep that night. The slightest sound seemed to be a threat.The window was being blown by the wind. Somewhere down the elevator was whirring along. I held my phone in my hand until dawn when the screen was black but so full of what it had already revealed to me. By morning terror had become colder and sharper. Anger. When the knock came, I was filling the coffee. Three slow taps. Cool, simply composed and cool. I was aware that it was Asher before I opened the door. He was standing in a black coat, his hair cut off, his face prudent and anxious. Too tender, as though it were a mask that was merely thrown on.You did not come home last night, you see, he said in an affable way. I stepped aside to let him in. “I needed space.”He made a nod, as though that response pleased him. He entered my apartment as though he was part of it and he was scanning every corner of the room without looking conspicuous. Noticing ever
Naomi's POVI hear the words of my mom reverberating in my head as I stand there caught between the desire to yell and the need to cry.Had you heard what was, you wouldn’t like me evermore.“Then why won’t you tell me?” My voice was scarcely keeping together. Why can you say so, and cease?Elaina comes back to me again, with her arms around her, as she is cold. The city lights beyond lighten her face in soft shadows, yet I may be able to see her jaw tighten.I have had enough to say, she says.No, you have not, I say getting nearer. You have said enough to rip me up.She doesn’t turn around. That is worse than the way she would have screamed at me.You believe it is more kind being silent, I continue, now shaking my hands. “But it’s not. It never was. You left, Mom. You disappeared. I spent the entirety of my life blanking you in. And now you are standing here, and you tell me that you are one of the secrets of my dad, and you even will not tell me why?Her shoulders are slowly risin
Point of view of NaomiIt weighed more than my phone and my keys altogether. Every time I moved, that tiny flash drive pressed into my ribs in my coat like a live thing. I was unable to open it just yet. Not until I got the thing I was missing. The password. The name of my mother. I felt lightheaded at the thought. Elaina, my mother, had only ever been a ghost in my life. She went when I was old enough to understand what it was like to be abandoned but still young enough to remember songs. I had made up a story about her disappearance for years: she was weak, self-centered, and she put her freedom before her family. Now, however, her name held the secret to my father's truth. This suggested that she hadn't simply disappeared. She had been involved from the beginning. Before I could talk myself out of it, I called her number. After three rings, her voice came through, friendly but careful. Naomi? I tightened my hold on the phone. "Hello, Mom. Can we get together? A pause. "Now
Naomi's Point of ViewAs I walked home, I was unable to think about anything else. The city itself seemed to be watching me, and every step and sound in the street was sharper than usual. As if to make sure it was still there, my fingers continued to trace the shape of the flash drive through the material of my coat. It wasn't until his voice faded into the void that I heard Asher's footsteps behind me. He stated, "You're quiet." I spun around and jumped. His face was opaque as he stood a few steps back with his hands in his pockets. "I had no idea you were still pursuing me." "I told you, Naomi," he continued in a strong yet smooth voice. "I can't let you go into danger by yourself." Risk. It was a sharp word. "You weren't asked to." He looked down at my pocket. I froze, hoping he hadn't seen how firmly I was holding on to it. "What did he give you?" he said in a careful, now almost tender tone. Too cruel, I faked a laugh. "Nothin'. Only words. Empty threats"Naomi," he whis







