Chapter 2

Six months later

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the memorial garden bathed in the soft glow of twilight. I knelt in the damp earth, cradling the delicate petals of a freshly planted rose bush. Its scent was sweet, yet it couldn't mask the lingering bitterness in my heart.

I whispered into the fading light, "Happy six months, little one. It's still so hard to believe you're gone." My voice cracked, and I paused, swallowing hard. "I wish you were here. I wish..."

The rest of the words dissolved on my lips as movement caught my eye. A man in a dark coat strode down the street, his posture and gait eerily familiar. My breath hitched. That walk—the confident stride, the slight tilt of the head—I knew it. Knew him.

My heart pounded as I scrambled to my feet, my knees trembling beneath me. I took a step forward, peering into the dim light, willing myself to see clearly.

And then he turned.

For a split second, our eyes met across the distance. My world stopped. It couldn't be. He was dead. Buried. Gone.

But the features—the sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes, the dark hair swept back with effortless elegance—it was all so hauntingly familiar.

I blinked, and he was gone, disappearing into the bustling crowd of evening commuters. I stumbled forward, my gaze darting wildly, searching for any sign of him.

That's when I saw her—Amanda, my cousin, emerging from the café he had just entered. They exchanged a few words, and then they walked off together.

My mind raced. What was Amanda doing with...with him? With Ryan?

I took off after them, my legs moving on autopilot. I had to know. I had to see.

They wove through the crowded streets, heading toward Manhattan. I kept my distance, staying hidden in the shadows, my heart pounding in my chest.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a sleek, upscale restaurant. I watched from across the street as they were ushered inside.

Taking a deep breath, I followed, my steps quiet on the polished marble floors. I spotted them in a cozy corner booth, partially hidden by a large potted plant. Slipping behind a nearby pillar, I held my breath and listened.

"...it was all worth it, don't you think, darling?" Amanda's voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with false affection.

Ryan—or whoever he was now—let out a low chuckle. "Oh, definitely. Though I have to admit, seeing Sarah broken like that was almost too easy."

His words were like ice, cutting through me. I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling a gasp.

Almost too easy?

"I'm glad you're enjoying the show," Amanda purred, her voice dripping with malice. "But remember, we still have a long way to go. My father isn't going to give up his plans without a fight."

Ryan's laughter sent chills down my spine. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I've got everything under control. Sarah will never suspect a thing."

As they continued to talk, their words blending together in a blur of cruelty and deceit, I noticed a small, almost imperceptible movement. Ryan's thumb tapped against his forefinger—a nervous habit he'd had since college, one I'd always found endearing.

Now, it felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

I stumbled backward, my legs barely able to carry me. I needed to get out of there, to process what I had just seen and heard.

By the time I made it back to my apartment, my mind was reeling. I pushed open the door, flipping on the light switch with a shaking hand.

The living room was quiet, still. Almost too still.

A chill ran down my spine as I realized the door had been slightly ajar when I arrived. I was certain I'd locked it before leaving.

My gaze swept the room, and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed the absence of something on the mantle. My locket—the one Ryan had given me on our first anniversary—was gone.

I rushed to the mantle, my fingers tracing the empty space where it should have been. A cold sweat broke out across my skin.

Someone had been here. Someone who knew me, knew what that locket meant to me.

And I had a terrible feeling I knew exactly who that someone was.