The documents were a confession and a transfer agreement.
One demanded that I admit to embezzling funds from the Blackwood Breeding Farm. The other transferred my fifteen percent stake in Blackwood Equestrian to Camille Langford.
As I read through the papers, the full extent of Tristan and Camille's scheme finally became clear.
They had forged nearly a hundred veterinary reports, declaring nine hundred and ninety-nine elite breeding horses "retired due to illness." Under that pretense, the horses had been transferred from the Blackwood Breeding Farm to one of Camille's shell companies, then quietly sold overseas for a million dollars each. Together, they had pocketed nearly a billion.
Now Theodore Blackwood was starting to investigate, and they needed someone to take the blame. They had chosen me.
"Tristan, how could you?" I screamed into the phone. "I'm your wife! You promised we'd ride together forever!"
I shoved the camera toward Gale's neck.
"Look at him! This is Gale! You treated that scar yourself after his injury. How can you not recognize him?" My voice cracked. "Tell me honestly. Which race did he ever run without giving you everything he had?"
On the screen, Tristan frowned impatiently.
"Rosalind, are you still trying to fool me? Don't think I can't tell Gale and Tempest apart. Gale won ninety-nine championships for me. I would never mistake my own horse."
His voice turned cold. "Ten minutes left. Sign the papers, or die in there."
"She's buying time." Camille's lazy, arrogant voice drifted through the speaker. "Increase the gas concentration. Let's see how long she can keep pretending."
The call ended. The screen went black, reflecting my pale, sweat-soaked face.
A sharp hiss came from the vents overhead as more gas flooded into the stable. I doubled over coughing. My lungs felt like they were tearing apart. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with mucus as I struggled to breathe.
Outside, Camille leaned against Tristan's shoulder, smiling sweetly as she watched me suffer.
"The heat and gas still aren't enough," she said softly. "She's so desperate to protect that horse. Why don't we make things a little more interesting?"
She pulled several packets of red powder from her bag, a blend of chili and cayenne pepper.
I pointed at her with shaking fingers, then looked at Tristan.
"You're not her brother. You're her pet." My voice rasped raw from the gas. "She snaps her fingers, and you come running, helping her count the money she stole. If either of you lays a hand on Gale, I will haunt you for the rest of your lives."
Camille's face twisted with fury. She immediately ordered the men beside her to tear open the packets and dump the powder through the narrow stable window.
The red dust exploded into the scorching air and spread through the stable in seconds. Gale and I started coughing at the same time.
My eyes burned so badly I could barely open them. My throat felt flayed raw. Even with both hands clamped over my mouth and nose, the powder still forced its way into my sinuses until I nearly choked.
Gale had no way to protect himself. He jerked his head violently from side to side, sneezing over and over as clear fluid streamed from his nostrils. The panic in his eyes deepened by the second. Then he began slamming his head against the wooden railing of the stall, the heavy thuds echoing through the suffocating heat.
I forced myself to stay calm. There had to be a way out. Then I remembered the vent on the north wall.
The last time I'd cleaned the stable, I had noticed the boards around the exhaust fan were loose. I had even joked to Tristan back then, "Someone could hide in here."
If I could pry the panel open, some of the gas might escape. Maybe there would even be enough room for us to get through.
I wrapped my arms tightly around Gale's neck and whispered against his mane, "Gale, remember the obstacle drills we practiced before competitions? Follow me this time. Step where I step."
Outside the window, Tristan laughed mockingly.
"Trying to make a heroic escape?" he sneered. "Why not just sign the papers and put the horse down already?"
"I even prepared seasoning for you." His tone turned vicious. "Don't force me to come in there myself, or I'll throw you into the pot too."