My laugh came out strangled. “No. No. Bella has been nothing but family. She helped plan Clara’s birthday parties, she held my hand when my husband died, she—”
Agent Hale didn’t move.
“We aren’t accusing her without proof. But her identity appears linked to encrypted financial transfers connected to the network we’re tracking. Recent unexplained wealth. Trips. Secrecy. Sudden changes in behavior. Anything?”
My mind began replaying years of friendship, suddenly tainted by suspicion.
Bella’s sudden new house.
Her evasive answers about business trips.
The time she got angry when I asked too many questions.
The odd nervous glances when Clara entered the room.
Had love blinded me? Or had I simply chosen trust because the truth would have hurt too much?
Dr. Cole touched my shoulder gently.
“We must relocate you for your safety.”
“I’m not leaving,” I snapped, tears burning hot and furious. “They already took Clara. They don’t get to take my life too.”
Agent Hale leaned closer, her voice a wire of urgency.
“Then help us. But you must follow our protocol. And you must prepare yourself. We recovered a recording Clara made the day before she died.”
My soul twisted inward.
“What recording?”
Agent Hale lifted a USB drive.
“We haven’t opened it yet. We believed you deserved to hear it first.”
My fingers trembled as I took it, feeling as though I held Clara’s last breath in my palm.
“We listen,” I whispered.
“Not here,” Hale replied. “Somewhere secure.”
And so grief led me out the back door of the building and into a world where sorrow had claws and secrets had teeth.
The Recording That Was Never Supposed to Be Heard
Hours later, in a secured government room that hummed with quiet machinery and hidden fear, they pressed play.
Clara’s voice filled the room.
She sounded frightened… and brave… and heartbreakingly alive.
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