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Taking another glance around my brother’s home, saying my last goodbye, I head downstairs.

“You’re off?”

I turn to see Bethany in the living room, a small box in her hands.

“I’m done, so yeah. I have to finish up signing some documents with his lawyer. Figured I’d go take care of that now.” The documents which officially make me the owner of The Lair. The process was already started before his death; this will just make it legit.

She smiles. “Well, thank you. I appreciate the help. It’s been hard trying to go through his stuff…” She trails off, shakes her head. “Anyway. Julian had a box of memorabilia. I could never get him to throw it out.” She laughs. “He was such a packrat. I thought you’d like to have it.”

I hold up my hand, about to refuse, but she says, “Please, Colton. I know he’d want you to have it.”

I accept the box with a tight smile. My final act as Julian’s brother.

* * *

I spring awake, my heart galloping in my chest.

The AC blasts my sweat-slicked skin, the covers a tangled mess around my ankles. I wipe a hand down my face, clearing the burning sweat from my eyes.

The pitch black plays tricks on my mind…and just for a second…I think I see Sadie standing at the foot of the bed.

I reach over and switch on the lamp. Her jean jacket hangs on the coat hanger along the wall. I lie back and roll over, reaching out to pull her close, but my hand grasps at empty space.

“Sadie?”

My voice sounds odd in her bedroom. I’m not used to sleeping at her apartment yet. But since Avery’s rescue, she’s been too high strung to sleep at mine, not wanting to upset my roommate Jefferson every time she screams out in the night.

It’s the first time I’ve awoken before the screaming starts.

Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I push onto my feet and head to the bathroom. The nightlight illuminates my shadowy reflection in the mirror. I can see the pallor of my complexion, enhanced by the dim, blue light.

After I relieve myself, my brain is awake and functional. I search for Sadie in the living room, the kitchen, her office. The laptop is on. I can’t stop the dread climbing up my spine. I grab my phone and call her. No answer. I send her a text.

Me: Where are you, goddess?

I wait, hoping to see the three little dots that signify she’s typing back—but they never appear.

She’s at the department. Some call came in, and fucking Quinn couldn’t let it wait till morning. That’s what my brain wants to believe…but the nagging suspicion that something’s wrong won’t let me. Not fully.

I’ve watched her for three days. Three furious days full of events. The funeral. The wake. Avery’s recovery. Further investigation into Simon Whitmore. It’s been nonstop—and all through it, I’ve watched Sadie. Calm. Collected. Removed.

But I know she’s been through this before; she’s been through far worse. Distancing herself is a defense mechanism. She has old wounds to

protect.

I sit down in her office chair and my gaze lands on Julian’s box. I rip the tape off and flip the cardboard flaps open. A framed photo of me, Julian, and Marni stares back at me. It was taken one night at the bar we frequented. It was taken before Julian and I had the fight. Before Marni was diagnosed with cancer.

I set it on the desk and dig through the other contents of the box. All stuff that wouldn’t mean much to anyone other than Julian. Baseball cards from when he was a kid. His piggy bank. A laugh escapes me. I take out the porcelain bank, an actual fat pig that he cherished. It was his first practice into the art of blackmail.

You’d think with how he valued money, he’d have actually used it for that purpose. But even then, even as a kid, Julian understood that secrets were a cash commodity. He used to hide little notes inside; things he caught people doing. My dad sneaking a porno mag in with the groceries. Stupid shit like that.

I forgot all about it until now. I lift the bank out and hear a tinker. I shake it, then uncork the bottom. A USB drive falls into my lap.

With a sick twist in the pit of my stomach, I grab the drive. I don’t have to look at what’s on it; I already know. And if I do look…there’s no going back. That reality where my brother was the good guy in his final moments will be shattered. I was willing to let it ride—I spent two years hating him, blaming him. I should let it ride.

But my hand is already finding the USB port on the side of Sadie’s laptop. The drive is already booting up. The file pops open on the screen, revealing months of labeled footage.

I click open the top file. My brother’s image inside the club is clear and present. The timestamp denotes it’s about an hour before Carson and I showed up. Julian walks right through the club. But when he reaches the office door, he looks up at the hallway camera…and waves. The footage cuts off shortly after he goes inside.

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