Chapter 37 Chapter 37
Chapter 37 Chapter 37
The city kept moving beneath her.
Ava watched it from the thirty-fourth floor and felt nothing.
No guilt. No panic. Only a strange, clean quiet that came after you made a decision you could not take back.
It was 2:17am.
The wine in her glass was finally empty.
Her phone sat face-down on the marble. No new messages. The man had not called back. He never did until the job was done.
She told herself that was professionalism.
She told herself a lot of things.
The next morning she woke at 6:00. Not because she slept well. Because she didn’t need to.
She showered. Black suit. Low ponytail. No jewelry.
She looked like control.
Mara was already in the office when Ava arrived at 7:30.
“Morning, Ms. Sinclair,” Mara said. “Your 9am is confirmed. Legal wants to review the liability clauses again.”
“Move it to 10,” Ava said. “I have a call at 9.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ava closed her office door.
She didn’t make the call.
She opened Emily’s file instead. The one her assistant had compiled. Not illegal. Just thorough.
School pickup: 3:10pm, Lincoln Elementary, 4th and Mercer.
Vehicle: Black SUV, 2022, registered to Emily Hart.
Route: Mercer to 5th, left on 5th, home.
Traffic was always heavy at 3:15.
Mechanical failure would be believable there.
Ava closed the file.
Her hands were steady.
At 9:15, Sabrina texted. We need to talk. Today.
Ava didn’t reply.
At 10:30, Ethan called.
Ava let it go to voicemail.
His voice was tight. “Ava. We need to discuss the board’s questions about the Q3 audit. Call me back.”
She deleted it.
The week moved like glass. Smooth. Cold. Sharp.
Ava went to meetings. She signed contracts. She smiled for investors.
No one saw anything wrong.
That was the point.
On Wednesday, the driver texted from a burner. Need photos of vehicle. Confirm route.
Ava forwarded three pictures she had taken herself from across the street last Friday. Emily, getting Liam out of the car. The license plate visible.
Confirmed, she typed back. Two weeks.
Understood.
She deleted the thread.
Thursday night she had dinner with two board members.
They talked about expansion. About the merger. About Emily Hart’s rising brand.
“Her story sells,” one of them said. “Resilience. Single mother. It’s gold.”
Ava nodded and cut her steak. “Yes. It is.”
On the way home she drove past Lincoln Elementary. 3:20pm.
Emily was there. Hair in a ponytail. Laughing with another mother. Liam ran to her with a paper in his hand.
Ava didn’t stop.
Her hands on the wheel were steady.
Friday, Sabrina showed up at the office. Unannounced.
Mara tried to stop her.
“Let her in,” Ava said through the intercom.
Sabrina closed the door behind her. “You’re not answering me.”
“I’m busy.”
“You’re lying to yourself.”
Ava leaned back in her chair. “What do you want, Sabrina?”
“I want you to tell me you didn’t do it.”
“Did what?”
“Don’t.” Sabrina’s voice cracked. “The things you said. About accidents. About clean.”
Ava studied her. “And if I did?”
“Then you’re not the woman I’ve known for ten years.”
“People change.”
“Not like this.”
Ava stood. Walked to the window. “You think I enjoy this? Watching him look at her like I never existed?”
“I think you’re scared,” Sabrina said. “And scared people do stupid things.”
Ava turned. “I’m not scared. I’m done losing.”
Sabrina shook her head. “If you go through with this, you lose yourself. And I can’t watch that.”
She left.
The door closed soft.
The weekend was quiet.
Ava didn’t go to the office. She stayed in the penthouse.
She reviewed the merger documents again. Emily’s name was on half of them now.
Ethan’s name was on the other half.
Together.
On Sunday night, the burner buzzed.
On schedule. Thursday.
Ava stared at the word for a long time.
Thursday.
Two days.
She typed back. No mistakes.
There won’t be.
She deleted it.
Monday morning the news hit.
Blake Enterprises announces new safety initiative for employee families.
Ethan’s face was on the press release.
Next to him, Emily.
They were standing close. Not touching. But close.
The caption: Co-leads of the merged initiative.
Ava read it three times.
Then she closed her laptop.
At 4pm, legal called.
“Ms. Sinclair, we found something in the audit. Discrepancies from three years ago. Payments to a shell company. Looks like it was tied to your old assistant.”
Ava’s stomach dropped. “Who authorized it?”
“The signature looks like yours.”
“It’s not.”
“We’ll need you to come in and clarify.”
“Tomorrow,” Ava said.
She hung up.
Her hands were not steady anymore.
That night she couldn’t eat.
She walked through the apartment turning lights off.
In the kitchen, the wine glass from last week was still there.
She picked it up. Threw it in the trash.
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Ethan: I know you’re getting pressure about the audit. It wasn’t you. I know it wasn’t you. Let me help.
Ava didn’t reply.
She didn’t delete it either.
She went to legal. Sat through two hours of questions.
“No, I did not authorize that payment.”
“No, I do not know who did.”
“Yes, I will cooperate fully.”
When she walked out, Ethan was in the hall.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Waiting for you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “Because if they think you did this, they’ll come for you. And I won’t let that happen.”
Ava laughed. Bitter. “Since when do you care?”
“Since I realized I blamed the wrong person for three years.”
Ava stared at him. “What?”
“The pregnancy test,” Ethan said quietly. “It was fake. I know that now. IT traced the email. It came from your old assistant’s login. On a day you were in London.”
Ava felt the floor tilt.
“I don’t want anything from you,” Ethan said. “I just don’t want you to go to jail for something you didn’t do.”
Ava turned and walked away.
Her vision was blurred.
Wednesday.
One day left.
Ava sat at her desk and did nothing for an hour.
Then she opened the burner.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.
Cancel.
She didn’t send it.
She typed instead: Confirm time.
3:15. After pickup.
Ava closed the app.
She felt sick.
She went for a walk . Her lungs burned.
At 9pm, Sabrina called.
“Ava. Please. Don’t do this.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you. And because the driver you hired? He’s been arrested. DUI. They’re holding him.”
Ava sat down hard. “What?”
“Police picked him up last night. They found burner phones in his car. They’re asking questions.”
Ava’s heart slowed. Not from relief. From fear.
“Did they mention me?”
“Not yet,” Sabrina said. “But they will. If you don’t get ahead of this.”
Ava hung up.
She sat in the dark for a long time.
Thursday. 3:00pm.
Ava was in a meeting when her phone lit up.
Ten messages.
Mara burst in. “Ms. Sinclair. There’s been an incident. On 4th. Near Lincoln.”
The room went silent.
Ava stood. “What kind of incident?”
“Car. Brakes failed. SUV. No fatalities.”
No fatalities.
The words echoed.
Ava walked out. Took the elevator. Got in her car.
She drove.
Not to the scene. Not to the hospital.
She drove.
At 3:45 she pulled over.
Her phone rang. Blocked number.
She didn’t answer.
It rang again.
She answered.
“It’s done,” the voice said.
“It wasn’t supposed to—”
“It was a failure. Like you said. No one else was hurt.”
Ava closed her eyes. “Did you see who was in the car?”
“A woman. And a kid. They walked away.”
Ava’s breath left her.
“Good,” she whispered. “Good.”
She hung up.
She put her head on the steering wheel and cried.
Not because it worked.
Because it didn’t.
Her phone rang again. Sabrina.
Ava answered.
“Are you watching the news?” Sabrina asked.
“No.”
“Emily and Liam are fine. Shaken. But fine. The car failed. They got out in time.”
Ava exhaled.
“Come home,” Sabrina said. “Before you do something you can’t undo.”
Ava hung up.
She looked at the city.
And she made a choice.
She turned the car around.
Not toward the office. Not toward the gala that night.
Toward the police station.
She walked in at 5:20pm.
“I need to speak to a detective,” she said. “About a phone call I received. And about a man who may have tried to harm someone.”
The officer behind the desk looked up. “Ma’am?”
Ava sat down.
And for the first time in years, Ava Sinclair told the truth.
Not all of it. Not yet.
But enough.
Enough to stop the bleeding.
Enough to maybe, one day, look at herself in the mirror and not hate who she saw.
Outside, the city kept moving.
Inside, Ava finally stopped.