Chapter 36: Julianne's Warning

The windshield wipers fought a losing battle against the sleet as Elena tore up the Adirondack Northway. The storm had turned the world into a tunnel of gray slush and black ice, but she didn't lift her foot from the gas. The Subaru’s engine whined, protesting the speed, a mechanical scream that matched the one trapped in her throat.

She had three hours. Maybe less. The flight from JFK to the private airfield in Lake Placid was short, a hop over the weather that was currently trying to kill her.

Her burner phone buzzed on the passenger seat.

It wasn’t Mark. Mark was gone, left behind in the wreckage of his own cowardice.

It wasn't David.

The number was blocked.

Elena hit speaker. "Where is she?"

"She's sleeping," Julianne’s voice said. It was calm, terrifyingly conversational, as if they were discussing a dinner party menu and not a human sacrifice. "The sedative Dr. Thorne gave her is quite effective. She won't feel a thing until we arrive."

"You're taking her to Blackwood," Elena said. "I know about the estate. I know about the lab."

"Rose always did talk too much," Julianne sighed. "I really should have moved her to a state facility years ago. It would have been cleaner."

"You're not going to get away with this, Julianne. Or is it Julia? Which one are you today?"

There was a pause on the line. A staticky silence that felt heavy with history.

"Does it matter?" the voice asked. "We share the same face. We share the same blood. And soon, we'll share the money."

"There is no money," Elena shouted over the roar of the road. "Vargas isn't paying you. He's dying. He told me. He's going to kill Thorne and take Mia and leave you with nothing."

"Gabriel is a dramatic man," Julianne said dismissively. "But he needs us. He needs the continuity. And I have the leverage."

"Mia isn't leverage! She's your daughter!"

"She's an investment," Julianne corrected. "An investment that has finally matured. Do you have any idea what it cost to keep her hidden for twenty years? The bribes? The fake documents? The 'maintenance' that you so rudely audited?"

"I audited it because I cared about her future!"

"You audited it because you're small," Julianne snapped. "You're a small-town bean counter who married a man she didn't know to raise a child she didn't birth. You wanted to play house? Fine. But don't pretend you understand the cost of doing business at this level."

"I understand that you're a monster."

"I'm a survivor, Elena. Julia was the romantic. She wanted to keep the baby. She wanted to run away and play happy family. Look where that got her. Burned out of a villa in Tuscany."

"Rose said Julia started the fire."

"Rose is senile," Julianne said. "Julia died because she was weak. I survived because I'm practical. And right now, the practical thing to do is to deliver the asset and close the account."

"I'm coming for her," Elena said. "I'm an hour behind you. If you hurt her..."

"If you keep coming, Elena, you're going to die in the snow. The roads are icing over. The pass to Blackwood is treacherous even in good weather."

"I don't care."

"You should. You have a life, don't you? A nice, safe, boring life. You could go back to it. Walk away. We'll send you a postcard from Zurich. Or Rio. Wherever we decide to retire."

"I'm not turning back."

"Then you're a fool," Julianne said. "You think you're the hero of this story? You're just a line item. An expense I'm trying to write off."

Elena saw the sign for the Lake Placid exit looming in the mist. She swerved across two lanes, tires hydroplaning for a heart-stopping second before biting into the asphalt.

"I'm not a line item," Elena said. "I'm her mother."

Julianne laughed. It was the same laugh from the kitchen, the one that sounded like glass breaking.

"You want to be righteous, Elena? Go ahead. But righteousness doesn't pay tuition."