Amira didn't sleep after the messages.She sat at her desk until dawn broke, reading and re-reading the articles, memorizing every detail. Isabelle Mercer's face. The timeline. Darren's name is in the witness list. The handwritten note about three fire origins.By the time her alarm went off at seven, she'd made copies of everything and hidden them in three different places—one in her sketchbook, one behind a loose panel in her closet, one in the lining of a purse she never used.If Leon found one, he wouldn't find them all.She showered mechanically, letting hot water pound against her shoulders while her mind spun. Who had sent those messages? Someone who knew Leon's secrets. Someone who wanted her to know them, too.But why? What did they want from her?The stylist arrived at eight to prepare her for Vivienne's session. Amira sat still as her hair was arranged, her makeup applied, her armor carefully constructed.In the mirror, Mrs. Leon Mercer stared back—calm, polished, perfect.
آخر تحديث : 2025-10-25 اقرأ المزيد