All Chapters of The Heart Never Forgets: Chapter 11 - Chapter 15

The city blurred outside the cab window, neon lights smearing into streaks of gold and red. My pulse hadn’t slowed since I left the nonprofit.The envelope, the report, and the photo burned against my chest like poison I couldn’t spit out.Daniel.His name had been pounding in my skull the entire ride.My father’s weak voice in the hospital bed replayed over and over: Daniel knows… the truth about the accident.And then the photo I found—the crash site, the blood on the asphalt, and that blurred silhouette that looked too much like him to ignore.I wanted to believe he wasn’t capable of that. But every new piece of evidence pulled me closer to a terrifying possibility: maybe I didn’t know Daniel at all.By the time the cab stopped in front of the high-rise on Fifth, I was shaking with anger and adrenaline.Daniel’s penthouse loomed above like some glass-and-steel fortress. Cold. Impenetrable. Perfect for a man who’d mastered secrets.I stormed through the lobby, past the doorman who b

I dashed into the hospital, where the air smelled of bleach and worry.I pushed through the corridor doors, my chest burning from the sprint up the stairs. Every step echoed in my skull.My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped my phone. All I could see was that text burned into my mind.“Choose, or watch him die.”“Please, please,” I whispered to no one. “Let him be okay.”When I reached my father’s room, the world tilted.He was there. Alive. Breathing. But pale, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven rhythms. The heart monitor beeped a tired rhythm, steady but weak. A nurse looked up from her chart, startled by my entrance.“Miss Riley…”“What happened?” My voice came out strangled.“He’s stable,” she said gently. “No change since last night. But someone left this.” She pointed to the pillow beside him.My blood ran cold.A single white envelope rested against his pillow, perfectly placed, as though someone had been careful not to wake him.I moved closer, each step lo

Standing there, shadowed by the pale morning light, was Daniel.Only this time, his expression wasn’t gentle.It was cold. Controlled.And in his hand… he was holding another envelope.For a long, breathless moment, I couldn’t move. The air between us felt charged, tight, and humming like the space right before lightning strikes.Daniel stood just inside the doorway, his hair still damp from the rain outside, the faintest sheen of sweat on his brow.He looked exhausted, like someone who hadn’t slept in days. But there was something else too, something sharper in his eyes.He held out the envelope. “You left this in the lobby yesterday,” he said quietly.His voice was calm, careful, as if he knew how close I was to breaking.I didn’t take it. My hands were balled into fists at my sides. “What’s in it?”He hesitated. “Documents from Pierce’s board. They might help your foundation.”His tone was even, but I caught the flicker of tension in his jaw, the same one that used to appear whenev