Chapter 142 *
Scarlett's POV
I picked up the napkin. Unfolded it. A phone number was written inside in Jake's blocky handwriting.
"I grabbed his phone while he was still sleeping it off," Jake said. "Found the number he'd been calling to make reports. I tried dialing it."
"And?"
"Someone picked up. Male voice. I didn't say anything, just listened. He went quiet for about three seconds, then hung up." Jake's jaw tightened. "The number's been dead ever since. Whoever it was, they knew something was off the second they heard breathing that wasn't Slade's."
I stared at the number on the napkin. My mind was racing.
Someone had been surveilling my parents' house. For months. Waiting for me to come back.
The question was who. And why.
My parents died in a car accident almost a year ago. That's what the police report said. That's what the coroner confirmed. Brake failure on a mountain road. Bad luck. Tragic but straightforward.
But Dad wasn't just a small-town doctor.
He'd been Dr. Simon Quinn—one of the lead researchers on Cosmos-1 before he disappeared from the program. He'd built a new life, a new identity, buried himself so deep in rural Montana that nobody would ever think to look for him there.
Or so we'd thought.
If the people hunting for Cosmos-1 had found him—if they'd figured out who he really was before he died—then the car accident wasn't an accident at all.
And if they were still watching the house, that meant they were looking for something. Something Dad might have left behind.
Something they thought I might come back for.
My hand closed around the napkin. I folded it carefully and slipped it into my jacket pocket.
"Jake." I looked at him directly. "I need you to drop this."
His eyebrows went up. "Drop it? Scar, someone's stalking your—"
"I know." I cut him off. My voice came out harder than I meant it to. "I know exactly what this is. And that's why I need you to walk away from it."
"Like hell I will." He leaned forward. "Your dad was good to my family. When my mom got sick, he treated her for free for two years. I'm not just gonna—"
"Jake." I put my hand on his arm. Squeezed. "Listen to me. This isn't small-town trouble. This isn't Bobby Slade being Bobby Slade. The people behind this are the kind of people who make problems disappear. Permanently."
His face changed. The stubbornness was still there, but I could see the understanding creeping in behind it.
"If you start poking around, they'll notice. And they won't send someone like Slade to deal with you." I held his gaze. "They'll send someone who doesn't miss."
Lily had gone very quiet. She was looking back and forth between us, her avocado toast completely forgotten.
"Scar, you're scaring me," she said softly.
I forced a smile. It probably looked terrible. "I'm fine. Everything's fine. I just need Jake to promise me he'll let this go."
Jake stared at me for a long moment. Then he exhaled through his nose. "Fine. But if you need help—"
"I'll call." I squeezed his arm once more and let go. "I promise."
He didn't look happy. But he nodded.
I tucked the napkin deeper into my pocket. Whatever this was, I'd deal with it on my own terms. Not Jake's.
Jake left after twenty minutes. He hugged me at the door, said something about being careful, and disappeared into the Saturday foot traffic.
Lily watched him go. Then she turned back to me.
"Okay. That was terrifying." She picked up her mimosa. Took a long sip. "And I'm going to need you to explain approximately none of it because I don't think my blood pressure can handle it."
I almost laughed. "Deal."
"Good." She set down the glass. Her eyes lit up with that dangerous spark I recognized from childhood. The one that usually preceded very bad decisions. "Now let's go shopping. I saw this jewelry store on Fifth Avenue that has the most gorgeous bracelets and I've been obsessing over them for two weeks."
"How gorgeous are we talking?"
"The kind of gorgeous where I've been eating ramen for a month to afford one." She grabbed her bag. "Let's go before I talk myself out of it."
The store was on the second floor of a high-end department store on Fifth Avenue. All glass cases and soft lighting and salespeople who smiled at you like you were already their favorite person.
Lily made a beeline for a specific display case the second we walked in. She pressed her face so close to the glass that her breath fogged it up.
"There!" She jabbed her finger at the case. "Those ones. Look!"
I walked over. Looked down.
Two bracelets sat on a velvet cushion inside the case. They were stunning—delicate platinum bands with interlocking diamond clasps. Each one had a small engraving on the inner curve. One said Always. The other said Forever.
"They're a matching set," Lily said, practically vibrating with excitement. "Best friend bracelets. And here's the thing—they only made like five pairs in the entire world. Global limited edition. The saleslady told me last time I was in here."
I looked at the price tag. It wasn't cheap. "Lily, these are beautiful."
"Right?!" She grabbed my arm. "One for you, one for me. We've been best friends since we were four years old. That's eighteen years, Scar. We deserve matching jewelry."
The warmth in my chest caught me off guard. After months of dealing with the Romanos, with their conditional love and performative loyalty, Lily's straightforward devotion felt like fresh air.
"Let's do it," I said.
Lily actually screamed. The salesperson flinched.
"Sorry!" Lily waved at her. "We're excited. Can we see those, please?"
The woman behind the counter unlocked the display case. She lifted the bracelets out with careful fingers and laid them on a presentation tray.
Lily grabbed one immediately. Held it up to the light. The diamonds caught every beam and scattered tiny rainbows across the glass.
"Put it on me," she said, thrusting her wrist at me.
I laughed. Took the bracelet. Fastened it around her wrist. The platinum gleamed against her skin.
She held up her arm and admired it from every possible angle. "Oh my God. I look like a Kardashian. A budget Kardashian, but still."
I picked up the second bracelet. Started to put it on.
That's when I heard the voice.
"Well, isn't this a charming little scene."
My entire body went rigid.
I knew that voice.
I turned around slowly.