Chapter Nine – The Betrayal
Claire didn't go home.
She walked for hours, letting the city swallow her. The noise dulled her thoughts, but the fear stayed sharp, coiled tight inside her chest.
That night, her phone vibrated again.
Unknown Number:
"You found the files."
Her hands shook so violently she nearly dropped the phone.
Who are you? she typed.
The response came almost instantly.
"Someone who remembers what really happened."
They met two days later.
A café near the river, crowded enough to feel safe, quiet enough to talk. Claire chose a table with her back to the wall. She watched the door like prey.
When the man entered, she recognized him immediately.
He sat across from her slowly, careful not to spook her.
"My name is Mark," he said. "I lived three houses down from yours."
Her chest tightened.
"You were always watching," he continued. "The night of the fire… I saw everything."
Her coffee trembled in its cup.
"You ran out," he said gently. "You were screaming his name. But someone else went back in."
Her head snapped up. "Who?"
He hesitated.
"Your father."
The word cracked something open inside her.
"No," she whispered. "He tried to save us."
Mark shook his head slowly. "He took Daniel."
Her world tilted.
"He survived the fire," Mark said. "But not your father."
Her pulse roared.
"You're lying."
"I wish I were."
That night, Claire realized something worse than being hunted:
She had been protected—from the truth