Chapter Fifty-One
We all slept late, mostly because none of us had truly slept at all. Every sound in the night had made my heart hammer, convinced someone had broken in again and come to take me. Zeke had held me close, whispering reassurances into my hair, but his words hadn't touched the fear. Even from upstairs, I could hear Agent Williams, Uncle Donovan, and Andy talking somewhere in the house. They obviously hadn't slept much either.
When we finally descended the stairs, the three men were drinking coffee at the kitchen table. Dark bags hung under their eyes, and their fatigue was evident. It broke my heart to see them this way because of me. Zeke grabbed a cup of coffee for me and one for himself, and we sat at the table with the others, silently enjoying it.
Andy called Sharon just after noon. He tried to sound steady. "Hey, honey, I'm going to stay at Roxanne's for a while. Could you bring me clothes, toiletries, and my work bag?" he asked her.
Uncle Donovan looked over at Andy and mouthed "Smooth," while giving him a thumbs up. His action made Zeke and me laugh quietly.
Sharon's voice came through the speaker, warm and gentle. "Of course, sweetheart. Are you sure everything is alright?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Everything's fine," Andy said, clearing his throat.
"I'll be there soon. Tell Roxanne not to worry. I'll take care of everything," Sharon told him.
"Yeah," Uncle Donovan mutters. "That's what we're afraid of." Zeke elbows him in the arm.
Sharon arrived a few hours later, duffel bag in hand, wearing that soft, motherly smile she always projected. It was sickening. What I once thought was genuine motherly love now felt menacing and evil.
"Oh, Andy," she breathed, touching his cheek. "You look exhausted." Then she turned to me. "Roxanne, honey, you must be terrified. I'm so glad Andy was here for you."
Andy cleared his throat. "I think I need to stay here for a while. Just until I know my daughter is safe."
"Oh, um, well... if that's what you need to do," Sharon said, blinking and acting surprised, but still gentle. "Maybe I could stay too? For one night at least, if that's okay?"
Andy hesitated, then looked in my direction for approval. I nodded, letting him know it was fine. After all, they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
"Okay, just tonight," he told her. Sharon smiled, relieved by his answer.
The day dragged. Everyone stayed wound tight, every glance a little too quick, every silence a little too long. Sharon thought it was because of what happened with Ted yesterday. In reality, it was because we had let a viper into our home. More than once, I caught her angling her phone away and firing off quick texts when she thought no one was watching. I had a pretty good idea who was on the other end, but I never called her out on it. Not yet.
When bedtime finally came, we were all beyond exhausted, but that didn't mean anyone relaxed. We split off to our separate rooms, and Agent Williams took the couch in the living room to stand guard.
Uncle Donovan passed me and Zeke in the hallway and muttered, "If Sharon snores, I'm leaving." I smiled, mostly because his room was right next to theirs.
"You're not leaving," Zeke smirked.
"Fine," Uncle Donovan pouted. "But I'm complaining about it." We laughed at him as he entered his room, closing the door behind him.
Zeke and I couldn't sleep with Sharon in the house. Something was wrong. I felt it in the way the walls seemed to listen, in the way every creak made my pulse jump. Then, at 2:14 a.m., I heard it—a soft creak, then footsteps.
"She's moving," Zeke whispered, sitting up instantly. We were out of bed in seconds. I eased the bedroom door open and saw Uncle Donovan already peeking through the crack in his, his hair sticking up in every direction.
"Please tell me she's sleepwalking and not doing spy stuff," he whined.
"I think she went into the office," Zeke said.
"Of course, the office. Why wouldn't it be the office?" Donovan said with a sigh.
We stepped into the hall and moved down the staircase together, careful and quiet. Every step felt too loud. At the bottom, the office light cut across the dark, and the door stood slightly open. By the time we reached it, my pulse was pounding in my throat. Sharon stood inside, bathed in lamplight, scanning the bookshelves with slow, deliberate movements, as if she knew exactly what she was looking for. She turned and jolted when she saw us.
"Oh!" she gasped. "You scared me to death." Her hand flew to her chest, but the excuse came too fast. "I couldn't sleep and thought a book would help."
"Yeah, a book called How to Betray Your Husband in Ten Easy Steps," Donovan whispered to me. I elbowed him in the stomach. "Ouch," he whined, "That hurt. Why are you people always hitting me with your elbows?" He rubbed his stomach, pouting. We ignored him.
"There's a bookshelf in the living room," Zeke told her, his arms crossed.
"I know," Sharon laughed softly. "I like this room better, and I didn't want to disturb Agent Williams."
I stepped forward. "Sharon, there are no storybooks here. This is all financial records and legal books. So what are you really doing?"
"Sweetheart," she said, her voice going soft in that familiar, careful way, "I'm just looking for something to read."
"You're not here for a book," Zeke said, his voice dropping low.
"Zeke, Roxanne, please. This is ridiculous," she pleaded.
"Stop," Andy yelled from behind us. His voice cracked through the room, raw enough to make all of us go still.
"Andy, thank God. Do you hear your daughter and Zeke? They're accusing me..." Sharon cried, turning. Relief flooded her face as she thought he would save her.
"Quit lying," he said, quieter this time, which somehow made it worse. "I know you're working for Dunhill."
Sharon froze, then tried to smile. "Andy, sweetheart, who told you that? I would never..."
"Don't pretend. Don't even try," he snapped, cutting her off. For one brief second, the mask slipped. The real Sharon looked back at us—colder, harder, almost amused. Her spine straightened. Her eyes sharpened.
"You really want the truth?" she asked menacingly.
"Nope," Uncle Donovan says. "I don't want it. Too scary."
"Yes," Andy said, ignoring Uncle Donovan.
"Dunhill isn't just my handler. No, he's much more than that," she taunted. The veil reacted instantly, surging inside me hard enough to rattle the lamp on the desk. Andy's breath caught, like some part of him already knew what was coming and still couldn't stop it. "He's my father," she said, and the smile that spread across her face was all wrong. Sharon stepped closer, her voice low and poisonous. "He placed me in your life. He told me to marry you, watch, and wait. You were an assignment. It was never love, darling." Andy staggered back as if she had struck him. His knees nearly gave out. Sharon's eyes gleamed as she watched it happen. She liked hurting him. "And when Roxanne resurfaced, Daddy was very proud," she added, her smile widening.
Zeke lunged before she even finished talking. Sharon sprang back, knocking a stack of papers off the desk. Pages scattered everywhere. Agent Williams burst into the room with his gun raised, filling the doorway.
"You can't stop me," she said with a laugh. It was a soft, delighted sound.
Sharon bolted through the open door, catching Agent Williams off guard. He fell to the floor and quickly scrambled to stand back up. Zeke caught her arm for half a second, but she twisted free. Uncle Donovan moved to block her, and she slipped past him anyway. Agent Williams shoved past Donovan, trying to cut her off before she reached the front door, but she got there first and slammed it into his face. He reeled backward, stunned. By the time we hit the porch, she had already disappeared into the dark.
"Oh, Roxanne," she called as she climbed into her vehicle. "I'll be coming back for you, dear stepdaughter," she sang, her voice carrying through the night.
"Over our dead bodies," Zeke yelled as her car tore out of the driveway. Her words left a trail of cold through me. She was insane, and somehow she had hidden it in plain sight until now.
As soon as Sharon's car vanished down the road, we went back inside. The feeling in the house had changed. The air felt different—lighter, but only by a fraction, like the danger had stepped outside and was still waiting in the dark.
"She's gone for now," Agent Williams told us as he locked the door behind her. Then he checked the locks again out of pure habit.
Andy stood in the entryway like he'd been hollowed out, staring at the front door as if it had become something unrecognizable. His hands trembled at his sides. His shoulders sagged. His face looked emptied of everything but shock. It broke my heart to see what Sharon's betrayal had done to him.
"Dad," I said, stepping toward him cautiously. He didn't look at me or anyone else. He seemed to be in a trance, disconnected from the world around him.
"I didn't know," he suddenly whispered. "I didn't know who she really was." Everyone stayed silent, not sure what to say. We just gave him space to process his emotions and the reality thrust upon him.
After a few minutes, I moved closer to him. "Dad, none of this is your fault," I told him.
"How can you say that?" he said, shaking his head, eyes glassy. "She was in my house. In my bed. And the whole time..." His voice cracked, and the words died there.
"Dad," I called to him, reaching out and touching his arm. He finally looked at me, and the grief in his eyes hit me like a punch to the gut.
"I should have protected you," he whispered. "I should have known something was off about her. I should've..."
"No," I said firmly. "Dad, stop this. You have to know none of this is on you."
He swallowed hard. "But she targeted me because of you. To get to you."
"Then it's my fault. If I hadn't shown up in your life," I declare, my chest tightening.
"No, don't you ever say that again. Do you hear me?" he snapped. His expression was sharp and pained. Andy took a step closer to me, gripping my shoulders with shaking hands. "Roxanne, listen to me," he said, his voice breaking. "None of this is your fault. Not Sharon or Dunhill. Not any of it." Tears blurred my vision as he continued. "You didn't bring this into our lives," he said. "Dunhill and his people did. It's his choices and obsession. Not yours."
"But you got hurt because of me," I cried, letting out a shaking breath.
He shook his head. "I got hurt because someone evil used me. That's on them. Not you. You're a victim in all of this as much as I am. You are not the cause."
The veil was pulsing inside me. At first, it was faint, almost easy to ignore. Then it grew stronger. Before I could understand what it was trying to tell me, a violent pulse slammed through me and folded me in half. It felt like a heartbeat striking straight against my spine.
"Rocky... hey," Zeke said frantically, rushing to me. He noticed something was happening beyond my control.
I couldn't hear him anymore. The room blurred, the air thinning around me. Another surge tore through me—cold, electric, merciless. Then I felt it: Andy's grief crashing into me in wave after wave until suddenly the living room was gone.