KAIRA
Morning sunlight spilled across the dining table, painting pale golden streaks across the table.
I sat across from Uncle Darion at the small dining table inside his house, watching him complain about how terrible his coffee tasted while still drinking it anyway.
The sight almost made me smile.
The house felt strangely peaceful.
No armed guards, no constant surveillance, and no looming mafia boss watching my every move.
“You still make that face when you’re thinking too much.”
I glanced up.
“What face?”
“The one where your eyebrows nearly touch each other.”
I immediately relaxed my forehead.
His lips twitched.
“You used to do it as a child whenever your math homework got difficult.”
A small laugh escaped me.
His expression softened.
“I missed that.”
“I didn’t think you remembered my math struggles,” I murmured, wrapping my hands around my own mug for warmth.
“Remember?
Kaira, I had to suffer through it with you,” Darion chuckled, setting his terrible coffee down.
“You used to cry over fractions to the point you threw your textbook directly into the fireplace.”
A smile broke across my face, the heavy weight in my chest lifting just a fraction.
“It was a justified action.”
“You were just too stubborn to try patience,” he corrected gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You still are.”
“I guess it runs in the family,” I replied softly, taking one last sip of the tea before standing up.
************
I carried our empty mugs over to the sink, letting the warm water run over my hands as I rinsed them out.
Drying my hands on a worn dish towel, I stepped back into the dining room, but the easy warmth from moments ago had completely evaporated.
Darion was standing by the hallway door, his expression carrying the weight of the secrets that had brought me here in the first place.
“Kaira,” he said, his voice dropping into a low tone that made my chest tighten.
“Come with me.
I have it ready now.”
I followed steps behind him as he led the way to his study.
Sitting in the center of the desk was a laptop, a small black external drive resting beside it.
Darion sat on the chair, his fingers connecting the drive’s cord to the port.
He clicked a few files, the soft hum of the computer whirring to life in the quiet room, before he finally pressed play.
The screen blinked, and then the footage appeared.
My breath caught in my throat.
For the first time in months, I saw my parents alive.
For a beautiful, fleeting second, the walls of the study seemed to melt away.
I forgot about the brutal deaths, forgot about my marriage to Halston, and the faceless entity known as The Mask.
They were simply there on the glowing screen.
My mother was walking through our old living room, adjusting a vase on the table with a tilt of her head, while my father stood near the window, a phone pressed tightly to his ear.
They were moving, talking, breathing.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, a sob rising in my throat that I forced myself to swallow down.
Then, the illusion shattered.
As the digital timestamp in the corner of the screen ticked forward, the atmosphere inside our recorded house shifted.
Panic crept in.
My mother moved closer to him, he said something to her, she nodded and rushed upstairs.
My father kept parting the heavy curtains, peering out into the dark rain-beaten front yard.
My mother came down minutes later, telling him something.
I wished I could hear what was being said.
She paced the length of the rug, her eyes darting toward the ceiling.
They looked utterly terrified.
My father spoke rapidly into the receiver, hung up, and immediately dialed another number, his fingers trembling against the keypad.
My pulse ticked.
“Who was he calling?” I whispered, leaning so close to the screen I could see the pixels reflecting in my eyes.
“I don’t know,” Darion admitted quietly, his hand resting flat on the desk, his eyes locked on the monitor.
“I guess we will have to just watch.”
I looked closer.
My father looked utterly desperate, his free hand gripping the bridge of his nose as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line.
They had known something—or someone—was coming for them.
The realization sent a sickening chill straight down my spine.
My mother grabbed my father’s arm, her lips moving frantically as she shook her head, tears tracking down her cheeks on the screen.
He tried to soothe her, placing a hand on her cheek, but his own chest was heaving with fear.
And then, the horror began.
The front door exploded inward in a shower of wood splinters and shattered glass.
Men dressed in black stormed inside like a pack of wolves.
Smoke and muzzle flashes lit up the living room as gunfire erupted—silent on the video but deafening in my memory.
My mother screamed—I could see the agonizing stretch of her mouth as she fell back—and my hands flew to the edge of the desk, gripping the wood so hard my knuckles turned white.
I couldn’t breathe.
Even though I already knew the brutal ending to this, watching it play out in real-time felt entirely different.
It made the tragedy hurt all over again.
Darion placed a hand on my shoulder as an act of comfort, but he remained silent.
He knew there were no words for this.
The footage moved forward, skipping past the worst of the violence until the killers finally began to filter out of the ruined house.
Just as the camera’s feed began to glitch, I froze.
“Stop.
Go back,” I choked out, my voice cracking.
Darion hit the rewind key, slowing the frame rate down.
Outside the house, parked beneath a flickering streetlamp, sat a black vehicle.
Leaning casually against the passenger side door was the Mask.
My eyes narrowed into slits, the sorrow in my chest hardening into a burning rage.
But as I stared at the screen, trying to burn her into my mind, something else caught my attention.
It was a faint mark near the rear door of the vehicle.
“What is that?
On the paneling.”
Darion paused the frame, zooming in until the pixels blurred, but the shape became clear.
It was a painted symbol, it was small, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it, but it was there.
Darion immediately looked it up, it was a logo of a rental vehicle company.
Why did they use a rental car?
The more things revealed themselves, the more confusing it got.
My pulse accelerated to a fever pitch, heat cutting through me.
“If we find that vehicle…”
“We find her,” Darion finished, his voice grim but laced with a newfound determination.
Hope flickered alive inside my chest.
For the first time since the highway, it didn’t feel like another dead end.
It was a trail.
“The company is located three cities away but we need to find answers.” Darion stated as he put down his phone and stared at the blurred emblem on the screen.
Three cities.
It was far—multi-hours from Blackstone but it was reachable and possible.
“I’ll go with you,” I said immediately, the words leaving my lips before he could even close the laptop.
Darion’s expression hardened.
“No.”
I stared at him, blinking in disbelief.
“No?”
“I’m going alone.”
“No.” I stood up straight.
“This involves me, my parents.
I have to go with you.
We will go together.”
“This isn’t one of our old road trips, Kaira.”
“It can be.”
“It can’t,” he snapped, his voice dropping into that protective tone he used when his mind was completely made up.
My temper flared.
I leaned over the desk, planting my hands flat on the wood.
“You can’t seriously expect me to sit here and wait around while you hunt down the only lead we’ve had.”
His gaze softened a little, but the stubborn set of his jaw didn’t budge.
“This is dangerous, Kaira.”
“So?” I countered, lifting my chin.
“So I’m not risking you.”
I let out a bitter, mocking laugh, stepping back from the desk.
“Unbelievable. Find the original chapter at g.com.
You sound exactly like Halston.”
The comparison hit its mark.
Darion flinched, a flash of annoyance crossing his face.
He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply.
“Speaking of that, I can’t leave you here alone, either.”
I went completely still.
I knew what he meant—I knew exactly what he was indirectly implying even before the words fully formed in his throat.
Darion pinched the bridge of his nose, looking suddenly exhausted.
“If I leave you here alone, and something happens to you while I’m three cities away…
I’ll never forgive myself.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, though the argument felt weak even to my own ears.
“You won’t!
I won’t!” his voice raised, booming through the small confines of the study.
I glared at him.
He glared right back, neither of us willing to blink first.
The Voss stubbornness was a mirror between us.
“Listen to me, Kaira,” Darion said, his voice dropping back down as if he were adopting a plea as he tried to convince me.
“Let me take you back to the estate.
You hate him, I get it.
It’s mutual.
But right now, it is the safest option for you.”
“I do not need a hiding place.
I can defend myself.
You taught me better.”
“I know.” His voice cut through.
“Another attempt on your life is what I do not want to risk.” He stepped closer to me.
“I will come back and let you know everything the second I find her.
I promise.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest.
Every instinct inside me screamed against going back to that cold furious man who had told me to go and die for all he cared.
But looking at the anxiety in my uncle’s eyes, I knew he wouldn’t leave the city unless he knew I was behind bulletproof glass.
“Fine,” I snapped, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as I let out an annoyed, defeated breath.
“Fine.
Take me back.
But the second you get information, you call me.”
“Deal,” he said, relief washing over his face.
“We leave now.”
“Now?” My eyes widened.
“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder and got moving.
“Time Kaira.
Time.”
I hastened, following behind him as I grabbed the bag I had come with.
*************
The highway breeze did nothing to soothe the knot tightening in my stomach.
I stared out the passenger side window, watching the gray ground blur beneath us as Darion drove his sedan down the winding roads heading back toward the estate.
Before leaving, Darion had taken my phone and called Halston to inform him of bringing me back.
I could only imagine what the look on his face would be, furious and planning his comeback, maybe.
We were only a few miles from the estate, entering the long, isolated road flanked by dense woods, when the steering wheel suddenly jerked in Darion’s grip.
BANG.
Something heavy slammed into our bumper from behind with the force of a freight train.
Darion knuckle turned white as he fought to keep the spinning car in the center of the lane.
Before I could even scream, explosions shattered the air from beneath us.
The back tires blew out, shredded to pieces by whatever had struck us.
“What is happening?” I screamed, clutching my seatbelt like they were my saviour.
Darion slammed his foot down on the floorboard.
“The brakes aren’t working.
Hold on tight, we will have to stop the car whatever means possible—”
Before he had finished, the car lost all friction, veering off the pavement.
The world outside the window spun into a chaotic blur of green trees and gray sky.
My stomach dropped into freefall as the vehicle pitched forward, plunging off and crashing directly into a deep, rocky ditch.
The airbag exploded into my face with force.
Then, everything went black.