Third person POV
On the third morning, Scarlett stood by the window in a silk robe, clutching a steaming mug of strong coffee. The August sun filtered through the dense forest canopy, dappling light across the balcony. From here, she could see the security team making their silent rotations through the trees below, like shadows on a war map.
It was quiet, but never peaceful.
“I need to do something,” she finally said aloud, mostly to herself.
Jasper had offered safety, but Scarlett needed more than protection. She needed purpose. And a plan.
So she began. Slowly.
She returned to her private journal, encrypted, hidden in a secure cloud Jasper’s team had recovered for her. Pages of her own handwriting, evidence, thoughts, pieces of Charles’s investigations, and Charles’s secrets.
She
