The city lights of Manhattan shimmered like distant stars outside Cambria's penthouse windows, but inside, everything had gone still. The television's screen flickered with the breaking news headline: EVELYN STONE FOUND DEAD APPARENT SUICIDE OR SOMETHING MORE? The volume had been muted, yet the image of Evelyn's lifeless body spoke louder than any anchor could.
Cambria didn't speak.
She couldn't.
The message on her phone still burned into her mind:
"You don't know who to trust. Look closer or lose everything."
A warning or a threat.
Maddox stood at her side, silent, tense, his hand lightly brushing against her back, as if afraid to touch her yet needing to anchor her.
"It doesn't make sense," she said at last, her voice flat with disbelief. "Evelyn, were many things calculated, cold, obsessive, but suicidal?" She shook her head. "No. She was too proud to die this way."
Maddox's jaw flexed. "Unless someone made it look like suicide."
