Chapter 36 Chapter 36

Chapter 36 Chapter 36
Ciara’s POV 

The noise of the cafeteria flooded back into my ears. My old face was still on the screen, but the students around me didn't even look up. To them, it was just another international news story about a wealthy American criminal. 

My heart was racing, and my hands felt cold. I kept my eyes fixed on the half-eaten salad in front of me. I did not stand up and run. I forced my muscles to stay loose.

I took a slow sip of my water and counted to five. Then I put the bottle down, closed my tablet, and slid it into my leather satchel. I stood up, smoothed the front of my white shirt, and walked toward the tray return.

As I walked out of the cafeteria, a girl from my morning lecture, a student named Mei, caught my eye.

"Hey, Ciara," she said, waving a hand. "Are you going to the anatomy lab later? The professor said the guest lecturer is starting at three."

I forced a smile. "I’ll be there. I just have to stop by the library first to check on a reference."

"See you then," she said.

I walked through the campus at a normal pace. I even stopped to ask one of the administrative assistants about my student ID card activation. I made myself visible and active. 

I spent the next three hours in the anatomy lab. I stood over a cadaver, focusing on the intricate pathways of the nervous system. I talked to the professor about the cranial nerves. I stayed until the very end of the session.

By the time I left the university, the sun was starting to set, casting long, orange shadows over the city.

I took the subway back to my apartment. I stood in the middle of the crowded train, surrounded by commuters.

No one looked at me. By the time I reached my building, I had almost convinced myself that the news report didn't matter. 

I walked into my apartment and closed the door. I turned all three locks. I leaned my back against the wood of the door and closed my eyes.

Finally, I let myself breathe. I let my shoulders drop. I stayed there for a long minute, listening to the silence of the room.

I walked into the living room and threw my satchel on the sofa. I peeled off my white shirt and tossed it onto a chair, leaving me in just my undershirt. I sat down at the small dining table and stared at the wall.

My brain coming up with insane analysis.

Who leaked it? The Morettis didn't want the feds involved. Dante hated the law. If the police were looking for me, it meant he had lost control of the narrative. Or maybe Isabella had done it. She wanted me dead, and a red notice made the world very small for a woman on the run.

But then I looked at the facts. I was in Singapore with a new face, name, living a new life.

"I'm safe," I whispered to the empty room. 

I stood up and moved through the apartment, trying to reclaim my routine. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of juice. I checked the fridge. I needed to buy groceries tomorrow. 

My phone buzzed on the counter. I picked it up.

It was a text from Elijah.

‘How was your first day? Hope the professors weren't too brutal.’

I stared at the screen. 

I didn't reply yet. There were too many things on my mind to start small talk.

I turned toward the sink to wash my glass, but my eyes caught something on the kitchen island.

I stopped.

The glass in my hand felt heavy. My breath hitched in my throat.

There, sitting on the perfectly clean white counter, was a folded piece of paper. It was a small, square sheet.

I didn’t leave it there.

My heart rate spiked.

I didn't move for ten seconds. I scanned the kitchen, looking for any other sign of an intruder. 

I set the glass down slowly, making sure it didn't clink against the stone. I reached out and picked up the paper. My hands were shaking.

The handwriting was elegant, precise, and hauntingly familiar. It was the handwriting of a man who had spent his life writing prescriptions and signing committal papers.

I read the words twice, my vision blurring as the reality of my situation shattered.

“Dante would be pleased to see you, Elara.”