SARAH
The apartment smelled like rot and desperation.
Peeling wallpaper. Water-stained ceiling. A single mattress on the floor with a threadbare blanket. A flickering overhead bulb that buzzed incessantly like an insect trapped in amber.
This was where I'd ended up.
The outskirts of the city. A place where people came to disappear.
And that's exactly what I needed to do.
Disappear.
At least until I figured out what to do next.
I sat cross-legged on the mattress, my laptop balanced on my thighs, the screen glowing in the dim room.
The livestream played.
Ewan Roman's will reading.
I'd stumbled across it by accident... scrolling through news sites, looking for any mention of my name, any sign that the wolves were closing in.
And there it was.
Live coverage of the Roman family drama unfolding in real time.
I watched as the lawyer.... Whitmore something... read through the will with that pompous, self-important tone lawyers always had.
Item after item. Asset after asset.
