CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE MISTRESS AND THE MASTERMINDSAM“You better find her, Sam.”Elena’s voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp, urgent, and trembling with the kind of desperation that gnawed at her insides. The shadow of last night clung to her like a second skin. I could see it in the flare of her nostrils, the tension of her shoulders, the rapid, uneven movement of her hands.“She can’t just disappear,” she continued, pacing like a predator confined, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that was almost frantic. “And more importantly, I can’t stand the thought of another woman carrying your child.”The words hit me, but not in the way she expected. I wasn’t angry. Not yet. I was calculating. Elena had been unraveling ever since I lost sight of Annalise in the dark. Her movements were sharp, brittle, and desperate, yet there was a fire there—a raw, dangerous energy I had learned to feed off.“We had a plan, Sam,” she snapped, her voice brittle, teetering between
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