Mason stared at the laptop screen long after the second video ended.
The sudden blackout at Emily's final words clung to the air like smoke. Bella sat beside him, hands trembling in her lap.
"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why record all this? Why hide it?"
"Because she knew she couldn't trust anyone," Mason said. "Including me."
Bella turned to him, her brows furrowing. "Don't say that."
"It's true. I didn't see it. I was in the house. And yet…" He clenched his jaw. "I was too caught up in work, too blind to realize she was scared."
Bella shook her head. "She loved you. She never doubted you. This isn't your fault."
But Mason didn't answer. He got up and walked over to the window and pushed it open. Although it was cold and rainy, the night air helped him to clear his brain.. Too quiet.
"I'll check the cameras," he muttered.
Riverton Manor had security cameras installed after Emily's death — a step Mason took out of guilt and habit. Most of them had gone unused for months, but the system was still intact. He brought up the feed in the study.
His fingers paused over the keyboard.
"Bella," he called.
She walked in, arms crossed, lips pressed tight. "What is it?"
Mason motioned to the screen. "This."
A figure moved along the tree line. Just a blur, but human. Standing still. Watching the house.
Bella's heart jumped. "Is that from tonight?"
"About fifteen minutes ago," Mason said, voice low.
Her eyes widened. "Do you think they followed me here?"
"I think they never stopped watching this house."
That night, Mason made up the spare room, but Bella couldn't sleep.
She lay awake, mind spinning. The flash drive. The unfinished journal. The video that cut off before Emily could name the person who threatened her. Everything pointed to someone close.
But who?
Her thoughts kept going back to one name: Michael Lang.
Emily's boss. Wealthy. Charming. Generous to a fault. But always too interested in her. Too present in her life. Bella remembered Emily once laughing him off. "He's just harmless." But now… nothing felt harmless.
She sat up, reached for the flash drive again. There was still one more video.
She plugged it in.
Mason, now fully awake and pacing the hallway, heard her voice call out. Not from the guest room—but from his office.
He rushed in.
The third video had just started.
Emily sat in her room again, but her face was bruised. A faint mark under her left eye.
> "I didn't want to believe it. But he came to the house again today. Said things that didn't make sense. He knows too much. About Mason. About the journal. About Bella. I think…"
Her voice broke.
> "I think he's not working alone. I think there's someone else."
Mason froze.
Bella covered her mouth. "She never told me this. Not any of it."
The video ended with a single whispered word. "Michael…"
In the silence that followed, Mason finally spoke. "Michael Lang. The charity donor?"
Bella nodded slowly. "He funded Emily's hospital. He visited her often. Too often."
"And now he knows you have this." Mason looked at her, protective instincts kicking in. "We're not safe here anymore."
Bella didn't argue. For the first time, she saw real fear in Mason's eyes. But beneath it, she also saw something else: resolve.
The next morning, Mason made calls to a trusted old friend in the city — someone who owed him favors, someone who could keep them hidden while they sorted this mess out.
Bella packed in silence, eyes drifting across the room where Emily once slept.
As they prepared to leave, Mason caught her hand.
"We're going to finish what she started," he said. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"I'm not her, Mason," she said softly. "I don't have her strength."
He looked at her for a long moment. "Maybe not yet. But I see it in you."
As the SUV pulled out of the manor's driveway, the forest behind them seemed still… too still.
What they didn't see was the black SUV parked deeper behind the trees.
A figure stood beside it, binoculars in hand, watching the manor fade into the distance.
Then he took out his phone.
A message typed quickly:
> "She's with him. They found the flash drive. We move to Phase 2."
He hit send.
The phone disappeared into his coat.
And he vanished into the trees.