Thirty-six hours later, my mother was in surgery under independent funding. Julian’s message had been preserved, and a judge had authorized the controlled recording. In an underground parking garage, cold water dripped from the concrete ceiling. A microphone the size of a grain of rice was taped to my collarbone. Before I entered, Gabriel had repeated the rule: *“Ask the agreed questions. If anyone tries to search or move you, say ‘I understand the price.’ We end it immediately.”*
Headlights swept across the garage. A black sedan stopped a few feet away. Julian stepped out first in a spotless suit, followed by two bodyguards and Chloe. She took in my wet hair and borrowed dress with a satisfied smile.
I hunched my shoulders and let my knees shake.
“You came back.” Julian smiled. “I knew
