Chapter 2

The next day, the apartment was silent. Too silent.

Our dog, Buddy, a goofy golden retriever we' d rescued from the local shelter, wasn' t there to greet me at the door when I came home from my shift. He didn't come running when I called his name.

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach.

"Elyse?" I called out, walking through the quiet rooms. "Where's Buddy?"

I found her in her bedroom, sitting on the floor, staring at her phone. Her face was pale, streaked with tears.

"Elyse, what's wrong? Where is he?"

She didn't look up. She just pushed her phone towards me. On the screen was a text exchange with Wesley.

It was brutal. She had asked where Buddy was.

Wesley' s reply was a single sentence: "Sold him. We needed the cash for D.C. A research lab paid well."

My breath hitched. I felt the floor tilt beneath me. Buddy. Our sweet, trusting Buddy. He represented everything good and simple about the life we had built here. He was our family.

"They did what?" I whispered, the words feeling like glass in my throat.

"I confronted him," Elyse said, her voice a dead, hollow thing. "I called him. He didn't even care, Gabi. He laughed. He said a dog was just a thing, and we were being too emotional."

Her body started to shake. "Then he and Sabrina showed up here, an hour ago. They cornered me. They demanded I liquidate my assets, that I transfer everything. They said they knew I had more money hidden away."

I knelt beside her, my own shock turning into a cold, hard rage. They hadn't just betrayed us. They had destroyed something innocent for a few thousand dollars to impress a grifter.

"I had to get out," Elyse choked out. "I couldn't stay. I can't be here anymore."

She handed me a folded piece of paper. It was a note.

Gabi, I'm going home. I can't fight them like this. I have to go back to where we have power. I' m faking it. A car accident. Don't worry. I' ll be safe. I' ll wait for you. Back home. We' ll make them pay for what they did to Buddy. I love you. - E.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Before I could process it, the sound of sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer.

I ran to the window. Down the road, at the sharp bend near the old bridge, flashing lights illuminated the mangled wreck of Elyse's car against the guardrail.

Minutes later, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. The door burst open. It was Ethan and Wesley. They didn't even look at me. Their eyes were wild, scanning the room.

"Where is she?" Ethan demanded.

I just pointed numbly towards the window. They rushed over, peering down at the flashing lights.

"Damn it," Wesley muttered, his voice filled not with grief, but with frustration. "Did you see if she had her purse? Her laptop?"

Ethan shot him a look, then turned to me, his face a mask of fake concern. "Gabrielle, I'm so sorry."

But I saw his eyes darting around the room, looking for bank statements, for anything of value. They weren't mourning. They were vultures, disappointed the carcass had nothing left for them to pick.