A piercing scream tore through the silence.
Blanche jolted awake, heart pounding, just as the bedroom door swung open with a
bang.
Her panicked gaze locked with Ablett’s calm, steady eyes.
“Nightmare?” he asked, voice low and even.
Blanche scrambled upright, hugging her knees to her chest. She tried to steady her trembling voice. “I’m fine, Director–General.”
Ablett studied her for a moment before quietly murmuring instructions to someone just outside the door.
A few moments later, one of the McCarthy family’s older housekeepers–her graying hair pinned back, eyes full of concern–entered carrying a steaming cup of
herbal tea.
“Here, dear. Drink this, it’ll help you rest,” she said softly, brushing the cold sweat from Blanche’s forehead with a gentle hand.
She glanced at Ablett as she spoke, her tone full of meaning. “She must’ve been frightened by something. It’s best if someone keeps watch tonight.”
Blanche took the cup, her clear hazel eyes reflected in the dark, calming tea. She managed to compose herself quickly. “It’s all right. Just a dream, nothing more.”
Ablett lingered at the doorstep, neither coming in nor leaving, simply waiting. Not until Blanche had finished her tea and the housekeeper had collected the cup and quietly closed the door behind her, did he finally turn away.
Even then, with the door shut between them, Blanche never heard a word from him.
Sleep was now a distant thought. She flicked on her laptop, the screen illuminating the darkness, and a flood of information about Kermit’s case sprang to life. His frozen bank accounts, the missing funds, the same signature tricks–someone had
cleaned him out.
Blanche dove into the system, desperately trying to trace the stolen money, but every path she followed ended in a dead end–blocked, then wiped clean.
It wasn’t over. The bank heist was just the beginning. Kermit was just a pawn, there was someone else pulling the strings from the shadows. But Kermit had vanished without a trace.
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Even after the search party left, Mr. Jordan’s men never found him–not even a body, swept away by the river.
Blanche knew where to start: the bank itself. There had to be an inside man. Otherwise, the mastermind could never have stolen the frozen assets so easily.
In the study, Ablett signed document after document, occasionally glancing at the window. Reflected in the glass was Blanche, busy and graceful, glued to her work.
Downstairs, Fernando had finally soothed Terrell and calmed Caleb. As he descended, he found Eddy sitting in front of the television, the news blaring.
There had been a kidnapping by the river, the reporter said. The victim was safe, but the perpetrator had escaped into the water.
A photo of the kidnapper flashed on the screen.
“You know, if Laney finds out what you’ve done, she’ll never forgive you,” Fernando said, nodding to the ring of security guards stationed outside and the phone still clutched tightly in Eddy’s hand.
“My people will notice I’m missing by tomorrow…”
With Terrell and Caleb here, Fernando didn’t want a direct confrontation. “You’ll have to let us go eventually. Whether you want to or not.”
“Let it go, Eddy. Let Laney be,” he pleaded quietly.
But in Eddy’s mind, all he could hear was Blanche’s voice from their last call.
She’d promised to come see him tomorrow. Promised she’d come back to him.
He was so close. He’d see her soon.
“Let it go?” he echoed, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. No chance.
Eddy’s eyes were rimmed red and heavy with exhaustion. Bathed in the glow of the television, he seemed to shrink into the shadows, a crushing loneliness threatening to swallow him whole.
The next morning, at the McCarthy family breakfast table-
“Do you have time to visit your grandparents today? You’re finally home, and now that you have Laney, you should go see them,” Wilhelmina Lopez said, her tone both warm and insistent.
Ablett looked to Blanche, inviting her opinion. “Dinner tonight?”
“Is it far?” Blanche asked.
10:00
“In Silverbrook. If we go tonight, we’ll have to stay over,” Wilhelmina replied.
Blanche hesitated, conflicted. “I promised Terrell I’d spend a few days with him…”
The case was mostly wrapped up now. All that remained was to debrief Mr.
Jordan’s team.
She still wanted to find whoever was behind it all, but Mamie mattered more. Besides, with her gone, whoever wanted to hurt her would have no way to reach
her.
She only had a few days left before she had to leave. She wanted to make the most of that time with Terrell–his biological father’s memorial was coming up soon.
“Who’s Terrell?” a voice interjected from the doorway.
It was Wendy, arms full of documents. “Miss Griffiths‘ son,” she answered simply. “Her son?” Wilhelmina’s eyes widened, turning to Blanche in surprise.
“Laney’s godson,” Ablett explained, his tone even. He shot Wendy a quick look, and she quickly excused herself, leaving the files on the table and quietly exiting the dining room.
“Oh, a godson,” Wilhelmina repeated, her expression softening.
10:00
