Cough Syrup
While we were eating, Tristan Shaw suddenly set down his fork and looked at me. “Who is Fatcat Cook?”
The fork in my hand froze midair.
My heart skipped a beat.
Fatcat Cook.
That name was someone Lena Moore and I made up on a drunken night.
We had agreed that if anything ever went wrong and we couldn’t reach each other, we would use “Fatcat Cook” as a code.
No one else knew that name existed.
Only the two of us.
And Lena had been missing for a full month.
She said she was going to Valoria for a trip.
Then she never came back.
I looked at Tristan’s calm, almost indifferent face, and felt my heart sink.
How did he know that name?