Chapter 48 JESSICA'S STORY
POV: Selena
The door closes behind us, and the sound feels too final.
I want answers, but what I want more is time. Time to breathe. Time to decide if I am ready to hear the rest of the truth.
Jessica sits on the edge of a narrow couch in a small back office the shelter staff let us use. Her hands are folded so tightly her knuckles look pale. Marcus stands near the door, half shadow, half guard. My phone is still open on the table, Adrian’s line muted but alive. I can feel his presence even in silence.
“What happens if you talk?” I ask.
Jessica looks at me. Really looks at me. “Everything,” she says. “Or nothing. That is the risk.”
I sit across from her, keeping my voice steady. “I need to know what Thornton did to you.”
She exhales slowly, like she is bracing for a fall.
“I used to think I was invisible,” she says. “Interns are supposed to be. We fetch, we format, we stay late. We notice things no one else has time for.”
My stomach tightens.
“I found the discrepancies first,” she continues. “Not the big ones. The small shifts. Numbers moving just enough to change outcomes. Grants redirected. Shell nonprofits.”
Marcus shifts slightly, but stays silent.
“When I asked questions,” Jessica says, “Thornton smiled. He told me I was smart. That I had a future.”
Her lips press together. “That is how he traps you. He makes you feel chosen.”
“What happened when you pushed?” I ask.
Her fingers start to shake. She presses them together harder.
“I copied files,” she says. “I planned to go to an oversight committee. I never got the chance.”
The room feels smaller.
“They followed me home,” she says. “Two men. Not sloppy. Professional.”
My chest tightens. I glance at the door, then back at her.
“They ran me off the road,” Jessica continues. “I woke up in a ditch with my car on its side and my phone gone.”
I suck in a breath before I can stop myself.
“I crawled,” she says simply. “I crawled until I could not feel my legs anymore. Someone found me. A truck driver. He did not ask questions.”
She swallows.
“Two days later, my face was on the news,” she says. “Missing intern. Suspected theft. Possible flight.”
My hands curl into fists in my lap.
“They killed my credibility before they ever had to kill me,” she says. “Then they tried again.”
Marcus speaks for the first time. “Again how?”
Jessica meets his eyes. “A fire. In a motel outside Harrisburg. I got out through the bathroom window.”
My pulse thunders in my ears.
“You have been hiding for two years,” I say quietly.
She nods. “Different names. Different cities. Shelters. Cash jobs. I learned how small my life could become.”
I think of the warning call. Of her voice shaking.
“Why call me now?” I ask.
“Because you did what I could not,” she says. “You stood up. And because Thornton is desperate.”
I glance at my phone, then unmute it. “Adrian,” I say softly. “She is telling us everything.”
“I am here,” he replies. His voice is tight. Controlled.
Jessica hears him through the speaker and stiffens. “He knows?”
“He trusts me,” Adrian says. “And I trust you.”
Jessica lets out a shaky laugh. “That is new.”
“Do you have evidence?” Marcus asks. “Something that can hold up.”
She nods slowly. “Fragments. Copies of emails. Access logs. Payment trails.”
“Where?” I ask.
“Three places,” she says. “If one burns, the others survive.”
My respect for her sharpens into something heavier.
“You planned for this,” I say.
“I learned,” she replies. “Pain is an education.”
Silence settles.
“There is more,” Jessica says.
I feel it before she says it. That cold slide down my spine.
“Thornton did not act alone,” she continues. “He never does.”
Marcus straightens fully now.
“There is someone feeding him information from the inside,” she says. “Someone who wanted the senator weakened. Someone who knew where to press.”
My mouth goes dry.
“Inside the De Luca family?” I ask.
She nods once.
Adrian’s breath is audible through the phone. “That is impossible.”
“That is what I thought too,” Jessica says. “Until I saw the access keys.”
Marcus’s voice is low. “Names, Jessica.”
She hesitates. Her eyes flick to me, then away.
“Say it,” I tell her. “Even if it hurts.”
She inhales, then holds it.
“They used family channels,” she says. “Private foundations. Legacy accounts.”
My heart pounds harder.
“Who?” Adrian asks.
Jessica finally looks at me again.
“I can tell you who it is,” she says. “But you will not believe me.”
The room feels like it is tilting.
“Tell us,” I say.
She opens her mouth.
Then footsteps echo down the hallway outside the office.
Marcus’s hand lifts slightly, a silent signal. He moves closer to the door.
Jessica freezes.
“Did you tell anyone you were here?” Marcus asks her.
She shakes her head, eyes wide.
My phone buzzes on the table. An incoming message lights up the screen.
Unknown number.
I stare at it, my heart racing.
“What is it?” Adrian asks.
I read the message.
You should not have gone looking for ghosts.
My blood turns cold.
Jessica sees my face and knows.
“He found us,” she whispers.
Marcus pulls his phone out, already moving. “We are leaving. Now.”
Jessica grabs my wrist. Her grip is desperate.
“You have to promise me something,” she says.
“What?” I ask.
“If I disappear again,” she says, “do not stop.”
I swallow hard. “You are not disappearing.”
She searches my face, like she wants to believe me.
Then she leans closer and whispers the words that shatter the ground under my feet.
“It was Marcus,” she says. “He helped Thornton. From the beginning.”
I jerk back, my mind reeling.
Marcus turns toward us at the sound of his name.
“What did she say?” he asks sharply.
I cannot speak. My heart is pounding too loud.
Jessica’s eyes are locked on mine, terrified and certain.
“I told you,” she whispers. “You would not believe me.”
And in that moment, I realize the danger is not outside the shelter.
It is standing right beside me.