The Trace

The threat

Maya arrived at the office earlier than she needed to, which only gave her more time to sit with the knot in her chest.

The firm was already busy. Phones ringing. Printers printing lots of papers. Someone was laughing so loudly down the hall. Maya set her bag down at her desk and barely had time to pull out her notebook before a person’s head appeared over the divider.

“Mr. Hargreeve wants to see you,” the assistant said gently.

Maya nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

She straightened her blazer and took a really deep breath, and walked down the hall. She felt so uneasy because she knew what this was going to be about and she didn’t feel like hearing it.

She slowly opened Mr. Hargreeve’s door. He was standing at his desk, glasses placed low on his nose, reading through a file with obvious irritation.

“Ms. Sinclair,” he said without looking up. “Close the door behind you.”

She did.

He finally looked at her. “Can you tell me why this case hasn’t moved.”

She held her hand together. “Sir, the family is cooperating really well, but Mr. Moretti has been hesitant to release Isabella’s personal devices and work files.”

“Hesitant,” he repeated flatly. “That’s not a legal position.”

“I understand,” Maya said. “But he’s recently widowed, and—”

“And the unexplained transactions don’t care about his feelings, do they?” Mr. Hargreeve cut in. Not cruel. Just direct. “I put you on this because you’re thorough. I need you to make this case move.”

“I have a meeting scheduled for today,” she said. “I believe I can get access today.”

He studied her for a little while,and then sighed. “Good. Because this case needs to move forward, Maya. We don’t stall when money and threats are involved and you know it.”

Her stomach tightened at the word threat, but she kept her face as neutral as she could.

“Yes, sir.”

He waved a hand. “You can go.”

She left his office feeling like she’d just run uphill. Did he expect her to get this case solved in two days? Well if it was that easy he could do it himself.

“Hey,” Diane said softly as Maya stepped back into her office .

Diane had her coffee in one hand, concern already written all over her face. “You look like hell.”

“Rough morning,” Maya admitted.

They moved closer, voices low.

“I got a text last night,” Maya said. “A threat.”

Diane’s expression hardened. “What kind of threat?”

“The calm kind,” Maya said. “The kind that assumes you’ll understand.”

“That’s not okay Maya,” Diane said immediately. “Have you told Hargreeve?”

“No,” Maya said. “Not yet.”

Diane nodded slowly. “You need to tell the family. They need to know this isn’t just about Isabella anymore.”

“I know,” Maya said. “That’s what today is about.”

The rest of the conversation blurred out for Maya. She needed to act composed because what would the family think about a lawyer that’s terrified of a very basic threat? Was it basic? She didn’t know, she didn't care because all that mattered was that she gets access to Isabella’s files.

The restaurant was discreet. Neutral. The kind of place people chose when they didn’t want attention.

Aya and Carlos Rivera were already there, seated close together. Adrian arrived a few minutes later.

He looked exhausted. Not unkempt — just worn down.

Maya went straight to it.

“You need to see this,” she said, sliding her phone across the table.

Aya read the message and was so uncomfortable that her attempts at hiding it failed. Carlos’s jaw tightened while Adrian read it last.

He didn’t react immediately.

He read it again.

Then he set the phone down.

“So,” he said quietly, “it’s reached you now.”

“Yes,” Maya said. “Which means this is no longer just about Isabella’s past. It’s active.”

Aya’s voice trembled. “B-But why would they threaten you?”

“Because I’m asking questions,” Maya said. “And because they know that I'm onto something.”

Silence stretched.

Maya looked at Adrian. “I want to be as clear as pssible— I’m not trying to invade Isabella’s life. I’m just trying to understand what frightened her enough to stay quiet. This right here, is why I need it.”

Adrian nodded once. “I’ll get you access.”

Aya exhaled shakily. Carlos reached for her hand.

“Thank you,” Maya said.

They discussed next steps. What would be handed over. When.

When the meeting ended, Adrian stood first.

He didn’t linger.

He nodded once and left.

Maya opened the door to her office and stopped immediately.

Tyler was sitting in the chair across her desk, his phone in his hands like he’d been gripping it for a while.

“Hey,” he said. “There you are.”

Her stomach dropped. “Tyler—what are you doing here?”

He stood. “I needed to see you. I called, you weren’t answering.”

“This is where I work, Tyler,” she said, closing the door behind her. “You can’t be here.”

“I’ve been calling you for two days.”

“I’ve been working.”

“That’s what you always say.”

She dropped her bag on the desk harder than she meant to. “Not now please. I have had a day.”

“Me too,” he snapped. “The difference is, you don’t even care.”

She turned to him. “Please lower your voice.”

“Why?” he shot back. “So you can pretend this isn’t happening?”

“This is not the place or the time, come on Tyler.”

“Where is?” he demanded. “Because it’s never at home. It’s never on the phone. It’s never.”

She folded her arms. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic.”

His laugh was humorless. “Dramatic? Because I'm calling you out on your bullshit?.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “What’s not fair is that we’ve been dating for four years and I still feel like I’m standing outside your life, knocking.”

She looked away, obviously feeling guilty. “I’m under a lot of pressure right now, with this case that I just got assigned to and everything.”

“You’re always under pressure,” he said. “And somehow I’m always the thing that gets pushed aside.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Then tell me the last time you chose me,” he said. “Not after work. Not between meetings. Not when you were exhausted and halfway gone.”

She didn’t answer.

His jaw tightened. The truth hurts but it’s still the truth. “Exactly.”

“You knew what my job was when we met,” she said.

“I thought there would still be room for me,” he said. “But there isn’t. There never has been.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with.”

“Then tell me. Talk to me,” he said. “You deal with everything by shutting people out and you think it’s strength.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Really ?” he pressed. “Because you always disappear behind your work like it’s a shield.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m just tired, Maya,” he said, rubbing his hand across his temple.

She swallowed. “What can I do now? I hate that I made you feel that way.”

“Nothing, we both know that we’re past that,” he said.

“You matter to me, Ty .”

“I don’t and it’s okay, you don’t have to deny it.”

That landed.

He kept going, voice rising now. “Everything is always about you, what you need, what you are dealing with, what you can handle.”

“That’s not fair—”

“It is,” he cut in. “You’re selfish, Maya.”

Her breath caught. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“It’s the truth,” he said. “You don’t mean to be, but you are. You were raised to survive on your own, and now you don’t know how to be with someone without keeping one foot out the door.”

“You don't have to bring my childhood into this.”

“But that’s what the problem is, you keep trying to avoid the truth,” he said.

Silence filled the room, thick and heavy.

Then he exhaled slowly, like something inside him had finally given up.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“I’ve tried,” he said. “I’ve tried being patient. I’ve tried being understanding. I’ve tried loving you the way you need without asking for too much back.”

She shook her head. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “This isn’t working. And it’s not because I didn’t try.”

“You’re just giving up?”

“No, I’m giving you what you want,” he said firmly.

Her voice cracked. “What does that even mean? You’re just giving up?”

“Yes.”

The word echoed.

“I think we should end this,” he continued. “And I know you think the same thing.”

She stared at him, chest tight. “You don’t mean that and I don’t think the same thing, I think the opposite, the actual opposite.”

“I do,” he said. “If we keep doing this, I’m going to resent you. And I don’t want to hate you.”

She opened her mouth and then she closed it.

He stepped back.

“I hope one day you let someone love you without treating them like a liability,” he said quietly.

Then he turned and walked out.

The door shut behind him.

Maya stood there, hands shaking, the office suddenly too quiet.

She had just lost something she didn’t think she’d ever lose, not like this.