---- Chapter 14. "You're clever,'' Madam Mankin said, her voice low and tight, "but you should also know-only certain kinds of people are truly capable of keeping secrets." I raised an eyebrow, calm and unshaken. "T wouldn't have come here alone unless I was ready," I said. "All the evidence is scheduled to be sent from a secure email. If I don't make it to my flight, it'll go straight to George. But if I get on that plane, it vanishes. For good." "And why should I believe you?" Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her emotions clearly pushing against the seams. "Because you don't have a choice. You have to." I knew her weakness better than anyone. After a lifetime of manipulation, I understood what she valued most. It wasn't the police she feared. It was ---- her husband, George Mankin. The moment he discovered who was truly behind the death of his beloved son, everything she built would crumble. This was a game neither of us could afford to lose. "who are you?" she asked, her voice low, eyes narrowing. "How do you know so much?" I didn't answer. Silence, in moments like this, was more powerful than truth. In this quiet battle of push and pull, our leverage rose and fell like the tide. My stake was my life. Hers-wealth, reputation, power. She had spent a lifetime looking down on people like me. The poor. The disposable. But deep down, I knew she understood exactly what kind of decision she needed to make. ---- On my birthday, I stood at the airport gate. Across from me stood Charles, looking like he hadn't slept in days. I wasn't sure how he'd found out I was leaving today. His expression was muddled, lost-almost pitiful. He reached for my hand, trembling slightly. "Mindy," he said, "it's your birthday today. I've arranged a grand party for you. Come back with me, please?" That vulnerable look-it didn't suit him at all. "Don't be ridiculous," I said coolly. "I'm leaving." "Twas wrong," he blurted, eyes damp. "I read my brother's email. I know everything. I know about you and him. I couldn't take it... I was jealous. That's why I hurt you. I just wanted to prove you loved me too. Please... forgive me. I'll treat you well. I swear." ---- I laughed-quiet, mirthless-and pried his fingers off mine one by one. His face crumpled in despair, and I met his gaze with steady finality. "But none of that... was ever love." "T don't believe you. I don't believe it," he whispered. "If you didn't love me, why were you always by my side?" He was stuck on denying it, stuck on running from the truth. He had always been a coward, one who couldn't look reality in the eye. I took a step back, putting space between us. "Charles," I said, "I left you a gift. It's in your inbox. Take a look. Maybe then, you'll finally understand why I stayed by your side for so long."