Chapter 9: Adrian

The taxi rides in silence, the meter clicking away like a countdown timer to my execution. My phone hasn't stopped vibrating since I left the precinct. Every single text message is a notification of a frozen account, a canceled line of credit, or an emergency legal notice from the Vancouve Conglomerate’s army of lawyers.

Clara.

No, Anastasia Vancouve. The name feels like poison, eating my breath away. I run a hand through my damp hair, my knuckles still stained with the grey dirt from the financial club's parking lot. Five years. For five years, she was a shadow in my house. She was the quiet, submissive woman...