Chapter 64 THE EVIDENCE

Chapter 64 THE EVIDENCE
Aria's POV

The basement door creaked when I pushed it open, and I froze, holding my breath.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Good.

I slipped inside and shut it carefully behind me, easing it into place until the latch clicked without sound. The air down here was colder, thicker, carrying that same dusty scent of old paper and forgotten things.

My hand moved to my stomach automatically as the baby shifted, a sharp kick pressing against my ribs.

“Easy,” I whispered under my breath. “We’re quick. In and out.”

I moved down the narrow steps slowly, one hand on the railing, the other bracing my lower back. Every step felt heavier than the last, my balance off, my breathing already too loud in my ears. Being down here alone was a risk.

Being this pregnant made it worse.

But I couldn’t bring Maya or Sera again. Not after what happened.

Not after that shadow.

At the bottom, I paused, listening again. Still nothing.

Good.

I grabbed a small flashlight from the shelf near the door and turned it on, keeping the beam low. Rows of cabinets stretched ahead, silent and waiting. I knew where to go this time.

Investigation records.

Not the surface files.

The buried ones.

I moved between the aisles, slower now, careful not to brush against anything that might fall or scrape. My heart was already beating too fast, every small sound echoing in my head like it would give me away.

“Winters,” I muttered, scanning the labels. “Come on…”

My fingers slid over the metal tabs, reading quickly.

Then—

There.

“Winters Investigation — Closed.”

My breath caught.

I pulled the drawer open carefully, the metal grinding softly despite my effort. I froze again, listening.

Still nothing.

Good.

I reached in and pulled out the file, clutching it to my chest for a second before moving to a nearby table. The wood creaked slightly under my weight as I leaned against it.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s see what you hid.”

I opened the file.

The first page was exactly what I expected.

Official.

“Lead Investigator: Elder Thorne,” I read quietly, my jaw tightening. “Conclusion: rogue attack. No identifiable suspects. Case closed.”

My eyes moved faster now.

“Timeline: forty-eight hours.”

I let out a sharp breath.

“Forty-eight hours?” I muttered. “That’s it?”

Two days.

That was all it took to decide my parents’ deaths didn’t matter.

That they weren’t worth investigating.

That it was just… over.

My grip on the paper tightened. “You didn’t even try.”

But that wasn’t new.

I already knew the official story was a lie.

I needed more.

I flipped to the next page.

Witness statements—brief, vague, almost useless. No names. No details that mattered.

Well controlled.

“Come on,” I whispered, flipping faster now. “There has to be something—”

A loose paper slipped from the back of the file and fluttered onto the table.

I froze.

Slowly, I picked it up.

It wasn’t typed.

Handwritten.

Different ink.

Different handwriting.

My pulse spiked.

“Evidence disposed of per Alpha’s orders.”

The words hit like a punch.

I read it again.

Slowly.

Carefully.

“Witness statements contradict rogue attack theory. Recommend further investigation. —Garrison.”

My breath came out shaky.

Garrison.

He knew.

He saw it.

And he tried to stop it.

I read the first line again, my vision blurring slightly.

“Evidence disposed of per Alpha’s orders.”

Marcus.

My fingers trembled.

He didn’t just cover it up.

He ordered it.

My chest tightened, something hot and sharp rising in my throat.

“They killed them,” I whispered, the words barely audible. “And he made sure no one could prove it.”

The room felt smaller.

Colder.

But I forced myself to move.

This wasn’t the time to break.

This was the time to act.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I opened the camera. “Focus,” I muttered. “Just get it.”

I snapped a picture of the first page.

Then the second.

Then the handwritten note.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Each flash felt too loud, even though the light was muted. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting someone to appear at any second.

“Hurry,” I whispered to myself, flipping through the rest of the file. “Anything else—”

Nothing.

That was it.

But it was enough.

More than enough.

Marcus ordered evidence destroyed.

Garrison tried to stop it.

Thorne signed off on the lie.

I swallowed hard.

“I have you,” I said quietly. “I finally have you.”

A sound echoed from the stairwell.

Footsteps.

Heavy.

More than one.

My blood turned to ice.

“No…”

Voices followed.

“Down here.”

Thorne.

My head snapped toward the door as a beam of light cut through the darkness at the far end of the room.

“I knew someone was down here,” Thorne’s voice said, calm but sharp. “Garrison reported an unauthorized access earlier.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He knows.

He knows.

Flashlights flicked on, sweeping across the aisles.

I moved without thinking, grabbing the file and shoving it back into the drawer, pushing it closed as quietly as I could. Then I turned and slipped behind the nearest cabinet, pressing my back against the cold metal.

My stomach made it harder.

Too visible.

Too exposed.

“Spread out,” Thorne ordered. “Check every aisle.”

Boots hit the floor in different directions.

Closer.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, forcing my breathing to stay silent as the baby shifted again, pressing painfully against my ribs.

“Not now,” I begged silently.

A beam of light swept past my hiding spot, inches from my face.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

“Whoever it is,” Thorne continued, his voice echoing through the room, “they’re tampering with official records.”

My pulse pounded in my ears.

“That’s grounds for immediate detention.”

Detention.

Or worse.

A guard’s footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. I could hear the slight scrape of his boot against the floor, the shift of his weight as he turned into my aisle.

Closer.

Closer.

The light followed.

I pressed myself flatter against the cabinet, my stomach making it impossible to fully hide. My back ached, my legs trembling under the strain.

“Check behind the cabinets,” Thorne said somewhere to my left.

No.

No, no, no—

The guard’s steps slowed.

Stopped.

Right in front of me.

The beam tilted downward.

My breath caught.

And in that moment, I realized—

There was nowhere left to run.