Chapter 5
Before she could answer, alarms exploded from the hallway.
Not medical alarms.
Security.
The guard outside my door shouted.
Margaret turned.
The lights flickered once.
Then the hospital monitors blinked.
My heart rate spiked across the screen.
Dr. Morgan rushed in, followed by two nurses.
“What happened?” Margaret demanded.
The guard’s voice came from outside, strained. “System breach. Someone triggered a false fire alarm on the west wing.”
Dr. Morgan moved to my bedside. “Mara, breathe.”
But I could not.
Because my phone, sealed in an evidence bag on the counter across the room, suddenly lit up.
One message appeared on the screen.
Unknown Number.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SIGNED.
Then another.
THE CHILD IS NOT YOUR SHIELD.
Then a third.
It was a photograph.
Not of Ethan.
Not of Vanessa.
Not of the mansion.
It was an old picture of my grandfather, Charles Blackwood, standing beside a woman I had never seen before.
She was holding a newborn baby.
On the back of the photo, written in blue ink, were six words:
Mara must never know about him.
My blood went cold.
The baby inside me moved.
One small kick.
Alive.
Warning me.
Margaret picked up the phone with trembling hands, read the message, and for the first time since she had walked into my hospital room, fear broke through her face.
“Mara,” she whispered, “there is something your grandfather buried deeper than Sapphire.”
The door handle turned.
Everyone in the room froze.
Then a man’s voice spoke from the other side.
Calm.
Familiar.
May you like
Impossible.
“Open the door,” he said. “I am here for the Blackwood heir.”
