Chapter 4 - The Forgotten Evidence
On the grey quartz island, lying right next to the cutting board, was the serrated paper note. Emma’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. In her rush to stash the box, she had dropped the card. The bold, feminine typeface of To Siera – Christmas Eve rested face up beneath the recessed LED spotlight.
Julian took two slow strides toward the counter. Emma’s hand instinctively drifted toward the pocket of her sweatshirt where her phone rested, ready to hit record. Every second stretched into eternity as his shadow fell over the paper. He reached down, picked it up, and turned it over in his fingers. His jaw tightened, a brief flash of panic crossing his eyes before his sociopathic mask snapped back into place.
"What's this?" Julian asked, his tone deceptively casual, though his gaze pierced directly into hers.
Emma leaned against the doorframe, forcing her breathing to remain shallow and bewildered. "A card from the florists, maybe? The concierge brought up three boxes of holiday arrangements this afternoon while you were out. I didn't open all of them."
Julian held her gaze for four excruciating seconds, looking for a tell, a tremor, a shift in her eyes. Emma offered only the vacant, weary stare of an exhausted nursing mother. Slowly, his posture relaxed. "Careless staff," he muttered, crumpling the paper in his fist and tossing it into the under-counter trash disposal. "Sending other residents' delivery tags to our floor. I’ll speak to management tomorrow." He downed his scotch in a single swallow and walked toward the master bedroom. "Get some sleep, Emma. Tomorrow is a big day."
May you like
As his footsteps faded, Emma approached the disposal, her pulse racing. She had survived the first trap, but now the clock was ticking.
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