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And if she gave up now, the last three years of her life would have been for nothing.
Anna shook her head and kept walking. Life was not fair. It hit some like freight trains and blessed others like they were saints.
Anna fell into the former category, and she’d long ago accepted that. At least people in the freight train category were tough—you had to be, or life would destroy you.
She pulled her shoulders back, inhaled the fresh morning air, and walked home, refusing to give the agent another thought. His offer was tempting because it played on her loneliness—the weight she carried every day. Pulling off her destruction of Diaz and his entire crew, on her own, was a burden she’d been carrying for years.
But Anna was strong. Life had prepared her for this. And the easy option, while tempting, was not the best option.
No, she would stick to her plan.
She unlocked the door to her townhouse, was greeted by a purring Miss Casino, and recommitted to her plan yet again.
Anna kneeled down to scratch the soft spot behind her ear.
“Good girl,” Anna said then closed the door behind her. She put her grocery bags on the kitchen counter and looked at the box Diaz left for her.
She looked at the shipping label but didn’t recognize the company name, so she grabbed a knife from the kitchen and sliced through the packing tape.
Her eyes widened when she saw what was inside.
Carefully, she pulled out a vintage edition ofEmma. She’d missed out buying it at an auction, and when she saw it at Diaz’s house a few weeks ago, she realized he was the person she’d been bidding against.
That behavior might’ve concerned her, but she expected it from him, and expected behavior didn’t throw her.
She pulled out the book and gently ran a hand over the beautiful cover.
Jane Austen was her favorite author for reasons Diaz didn’t fully understand. Anna loved her writing—but she was obsessed with Jane Austen herself, who was the source of much of Anna’s inspiration.
Few people, especially people like Diaz who rarely read and definitely not a Jane Austen book, knew that Austen had published her books anonymously so no one knew she was a writer. She lived a double life and left a legacy behind that would change the world.
Anna didn’t know if she would change the world... but she would change Diaz’s world, and that was enough for her. And no one would have any idea of what she’d done until she was gone.
As much as Anna dreamed of a normal life, of starting over once this was done, she realized she might not make it out of this alive. She’d come to accept that; it was a price she was willing to pay. And when she thought of herself like a character in a book, one of Austen’s characters, she felt empowered. Anna identified with Emma, because as the author said herself:I am going to take a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.
That was how Anna thought of herself.
She carefully opened the cover of the book she knew Diaz had paid thousands of dollars for. He knew he was buying her a gift, but he had no idea of her reasons for wanting this particular book.
She held it to her chest, inhaled the musty scent of the old paper, and breathed life into her plan.
She needed to make another move soon. The longer she continued this game, the less likely she would walk out of it alive.
She needed to proceed with caution, but it was time to put her plan into action.
And, with the Feds in town, now was the perfect time—because Diaz was distracted.
But that also meant he was more suspicious than ever.
She needed to be careful, more careful than she’d ever been, but this was her time.
Time to create a legacy.
JACKSON
“Jackson, forensics have emailed identity matches for the bodies in the barrels at the warehouse,” Will said as he strode into the staff kitchen.
Jackson grabbed his mug of extra-strong coffee and strode toward his desk. He opened his email while he pulled out his chair and double-clicked on the link to the files loaded onto the FBI database.
