*Chapter 6: Overheard*
London was cold.
Colder than Jane expected.
She pulled her hoodie tighter and dragged her duffel bag through Heathrow Terminal 3 at 6am. Her eyes burned from no sleep. Her hands were still shaking, but different now. Not from fear. From adrenaline.
_I made it._
She texted Bella from the airport WiFi:
*Jane*: _Landed. Safe. Love you._
Bella replied in 3 seconds:
*Bella*: _Thank God. Burner phone. New number. Delete this chat._
Jane did. Then she bought a £20 burner phone from a kiosk and threw her old SIM in the trash.
New city. New name. New life.
Jane Miller.
*Meanwhile - Carter House, 8:30 AM*
The house felt wrong without her.
Grandma Rose sat at the kitchen table, tea going cold. She hadn’t slept.
Upstairs, she could hear Victoria and Chloe whispering in Chloe’s room. The door was closed, but voices carry in old houses.
Grandma didn’t mean to listen.
But when she heard Jane’s name, she froze.
“...she’s probably with that Hayes girl,” Chloe said.
“Mom, what if she talks?” Chloe’s voice was high, panicked.
“Shh,” Victoria hissed. “She won’t. She has no proof. And Dalton was knocked out. No video.”
“Then what was Ryan Sterling doing there?”
“I don’t know! Some drunk CEO who took the wrong door. Thank God. If it had been Dalton, Ethan would’ve seen it.”
Grandma’s knuckles went white around her mug.
_Ryan Sterling._
_Drunk CEO._
_No video._
So that was the plan.
Drug Jane. Put her in a room with a married business partner. Film it. Send it to Ethan. Ruin her engagement. Ruin her.
And when that failed, they were just going to wait and try again.
“Did Dad call Ethan yet?” Chloe asked.
“Yeah. Ethan said he saw Jane leave at 10. Said she looked ‘off.’ He’s worried.” Victoria laughed, soft and ugly. “Worried. Good. Let him worry. In a week he’ll stop calling.”
Grandma stood up. Her legs were shaking.
She walked to her room, closed the door.
*Meanwhile - Ethan’s Apartment*
Ethan Brooks hadn’t slept either.
He kept replaying last night.
Jane’s face at dinner. Pale. Tired.
The way she only took two sips of punch.
The way Victoria kept pushing the glass toward her.
And then at 10pm, seeing Jane stumble out the front door. Alone. No jacket. Running.
He’d called her 12 times. No answer.
Now he was standing in Thomas Carter’s office, and Thomas looked like hell.
“Where is she?” Ethan demanded.
“I don’t know,” Thomas said, rubbing his temples. “She left. Probably embarrassed about something. Teenagers.”
“Don’t,” Ethan cut him off. “Don’t lie to me. I saw Chloe pull her upstairs. I saw Victoria make that punch. What did you do to her?”
Thomas stood up fast. “Watch your tone, boy. She’s my daughter.”
“Then act like it!” Ethan slammed his hands on the desk. “If anything happened to her—”
His phone buzzed. Unknown number.
*Unknown*: _If you care about Jane, stop asking questions. You won’t like the answers. -A friend_
Ethan stared at it. Then at Thomas.
Something in Thomas’s face gave him away. Guilt.
Ethan walked out without another word.
*Meanwhile - London, 3pm*
Jane found a room above a bakery in Camden. £400 a month. Cash.
The landlady didn’t ask questions.
First thing she did: buy a cheap laptop. Second thing: google “Sterling Corp CEO.”
A photo loaded.
*Ryan Sterling, 32. CEO of Sterling Corp. Net worth: $4.2B.*
He was the man from the bed.
The one who’d stumbled in instead of Mr. Dalton.
Jane stared at the photo for a long time. He looked tired in it. Sharp suit. Sharp jaw. Eyes that didn’t smile.
_You don’t know me,_ she thought. _And I hope you never do._
She closed the laptop.
Then she went to the bathroom and threw up.
That night she slept on a mattress on the floor. The locket from Grandma Rose clutched in her hand.
Before she fell asleep, she whispered to the dark:
“They tried to end me.
They don’t get to.”