Chapter 8
It wasn't Elena who stood in the doorway, breathless and clutching a leather handbag to her chest. It was a young woman in her early twenties with long dark hair, wearing a simple denim jacket and dark jeans. Her eyes were wide with a frantic urgency that mirrored Julian’s own internal panic. She stared at Julian in absolute shock, her hand still resting on the polished brass doorknob as if she were ready to turn and run at a moment's notice.
"Who are you?" Julian demanded, stepping forward from the shadow of the walk-in closet, his hand still gripped tightly inside his suit jacket pocket. "How did you get in here?"
The young woman swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "My name is Maya," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I’m Elena’s younger sister. Or... well, that’s what she told everyone. But it’s a lie. None of it is true."
Julian stopped dead in his tracks, lowering his hand. "Elena’s sister? Elena never mentioned having a sister."
"Of course she didn't," Maya bitter-laughed, shaking her head as she stepped further into the bedroom, closing the door behind her to ensure privacy. "Because I’m not her sister. I’m one of her former victims. Ten years ago, my father was one of the investors she swindled in Chicago. He lost his entire retirement fund to her scam. When he had a fatal heart attack from the stress, Elena walked away scot-free, and I swore I would spend the rest of my life making sure she paid for what she did."
Julian stared at Maya, the pieces of Sarah’s briefing aligning with this staggering new reality. "You’ve been tracking her?"
"For three years," Maya replied, pulling a worn notebook from her canvas tote bag and tossing it onto the bed. "I followed her here under an assumed name, got a job nearby, and watched how she operated. I saw what she was doing to your daughter, Julian. I saw how she isolated Isabella, how she terrorized her behind your back while you were away traveling for work. I was the one who left the security footage on your smart home hub yesterday."
Julian’s eyes widened in sudden realization. "The footage in the kitchen... that wasn't an accident?"
"No," Maya said firmly. "I hacked the internal feed and sent it directly to your phone’s secondary alert channel, knowing it would trigger your arrival. You needed to see the truth with your own eyes before she completely broke that little girl’s spirit."
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Julian felt a wave of profound gratitude wash over him, quickly followed by a fresh surge of alarm. "She just fled the house a few minutes ago. She left a draft on her tablet about a backup plan B... meeting someone at a lake house by noon."
Maya’s face drained of what little color it had left. "The lake house? Julian, she doesn't own a lake house. That’s our family’s old cabin in the woods three hours north—the one where she stole our father’s financial records a decade ago. If she’s heading there, she’s going to destroy the last remaining physical evidence of her past crimes."
