Chapter 4

The morning sun bled through the sheer curtains of the penthouse.

My eyes opened at 7:00 AM.

My brain felt like a completely wiped chalkboard. No yesterday. No lingering anger. Just a blank slate.

My hand moved out of habit, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. I put my earbuds in, waiting for my morning video.

Nothing. The lock screen was bare.

Beside the bed rested a neat folder with my driver's license, my passport, and a handwritten note in my own script:

Your name is Maeve Ashcroft. Look at the packed suitcase by the door.

I picked up…