Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 61 - Chapitre 70

NADIA POVI did not sleep that night.I sat on the floor of my hotel room with my back against the wall. My knees were pulled to my chest. My phone was in my hand. The detective's words were still in my head.Marcus Reed. Eleanor's eyes and ears. The watcher. The man who had been following me. The man who had been taking photographs of me. The man who had been reporting back to Eleanor.He had been watching me for months. Maybe longer. He had been documenting everything. Every move. Every step. Every breath.And I had not seen him.Not once.I had felt him. I had felt his eyes on me. I had felt his presence. I had felt him waiting. Watching. Planning.But I had not seen him.He was good. He was very good.But he was not good enough.I pressed my hand against my stomach. The baby. The tiny life inside me. The only thing that mattered."We are going to catch him," I whispered. "We are going to catch him and we are going to make him talk. And then we are going to find Eleanor."I did not

NADIA POVWe left the storage unit at two in the morning.I did not want to leave. I wanted to stay. I wanted to search every box. I wanted to read every document. I wanted to find every clue. I wanted to know what my father had left me.But the detective told me we had to go. He told me it was not safe. He told me we had to come back in the morning. He told me we needed to rest. He told me we needed to be careful.I did not want to listen.But I did.I took the photograph with me. The one of my father. The one with the building. The one with the folder. The one with the writing on the back.I held it in my hands the whole way back to the hotel.I did not let it go.---We got back to the hotel at three in the morning.My mother went to bed. She was exhausted. She had been running for years. She had been fighting for years. She had been waiting for this moment for years.I did not go to bed.I sat on the floor of my hotel room with my back against the wall. My knees were pulled to my

NADIA POVI did not speak.I could not speak.I just stood there. In the middle of the abandoned office. The folder in my hands. The note in my hands. The truth in my hands.My father was alive. My father was alive for years. My father was watching me. My father was protecting me. My father was waiting for the right moment.And then he died. For real. A few years ago. He died of a heart attack. He died alone. He died without ever seeing me again.And my mother knew.My mother knew all along.She knew he was alive. She knew he was watching. She knew he was protecting me. She knew everything.And she lied.She lied to me. She lied for years. She let me believe he was dead. She let me mourn him. She let me spend fifteen years missing him. She let me spend fifteen years thinking I was alone.And she knew.She knew everything.---I looked at her.She was standing by the door. Her eyes were wet. Her hands were shaking. She looked like a woman who had been holding onto a secret for too long

NADIA POVWe drove back to the city that night.The sun was setting when we left Thomas Grant’s house. The sky was orange. The sky was pink. The sky was beautiful. But I did not see any of it. I just stared out the window. I just watched the trees blur past. I just thought about everything he had told me.My father died for me.He died trying to protect me.He died trying to save me.And I had not known.I had spent fifteen years thinking he was a good man who had died in an accident. I had spent fifteen years thinking he was a hero. I had spent fifteen years thinking he was a victim.But he was not.He was a man who made mistakes. A man who got in too deep. A man who tried to fix it too late.But he was also a man who loved me.A man who died for me.A man who left me everything.I pressed my hand against my stomach. The baby. The tiny life inside me. The only thing that mattered.“We are going to finish what he started,” I whispered. “We are going to take them down. We are going to

NADIA POVI did not sleep that night.I sat on the floor of my hotel room with my back against the wall. My knees were pulled to my chest. My phone was in my hand. The detective's words were still in my head.Serena met a man. She handed him an envelope. He took it. He left.I did not know who the man was. I did not know what was in the envelope. I did not know anything.But I knew one thing.Serena was still working. She was still moving. She was still planning.She was not going to stop.Not until she was dead.I pressed my hand against my stomach. The baby. The tiny life inside me. The only thing that mattered."We are not going to let her win," I whispered. "We are not going to let her hurt us. We are not going to let her do anything."I did not know if I believed it.But I said it anyway.I had to say it.I had to believe something.---The next morning, the detective called."I found him," he said."Who?""The man. The one Serena met at the cafe. I found him.""Who is he?""His n