Chapter 59: Confronting Julianne

Elena didn't turn on the lamp. She moved through the guest room in a crouch, the blue light of her laptop reflecting in her wide, unblinking eyes. Outside, the orange cherry of the cigarette bobbed in the dark, a glowing eye tracking the upper windows of the house. Paranoia was no longer a theory; it was a physical presence, a black sedan anchored to her curb like a parasite.

She grabbed the burner phone from the nightstand and hit the only speed dial on the list.

"Julianne," Elena whispered when the line clicked open. "Gabriel Vargas is out. He was released yesterday from Bangu 1."

The silence on the other end was absolute. No sharp intake of breath, no immediate denial. Just a hollow, echoing void that told Elena everything she needed to know. Julianne wasn't surprised; she was calculating the cost of the leak.

"You should stay off the international news sites, Elena," Julianne said finally, her voice sounding thin and brittle. "It’s all noise. Political maneuvering. Gabriel is a broken man. He’s thousands of miles away in a high-security infirmary."

"He’s free, Julianne. The Brazilian court authorized his medical extradition. And he’s not in an infirmary. He’s in a black Escalade."

"You’re being hysterical. It’s the late hour. Go back to sleep."

"I’m looking at a black sedan, Julianne. Right now. It’s parked in the cul-de-sac. The driver is sitting there, smoking a cigarette and watching Mia’s window. I checked the neighborhood security logs. The guest code was registered to David Thorne."

A sharp, violent gasp cut through Julianne’s composure. "Thorne? Are you sure?"

"It’s in the logs. He’s here, isn't he? The 'Sarah' ghost didn't satisfy him. He’s coming for the real match, and he’s using your own fixer to find her."

"Elena, listen to me very carefully," Julianne’s voice was no longer silk; it was a frantic, ragged hiss. "If Thorne is there, Gabriel isn't far behind. Thorne doesn't move without Gabriel’s authorization. He must have traced the offshore payments I made to the Italian trust."

"I don't care about your trusts! I care about the man outside!"

"Get Mia," Julianne commanded, the panic now fully surfaced. "Do not let her go near the windows. Do not turn on any lights. If they see movement, they’ll move in."

Elena felt her stomach drop, a cold, heavy stone falling through her center. "What did you do, Julianne? Why is he at my house?"

"I tried to buy more time! I told him the donor was being moved to a secure facility in Greenwich. I didn't think he'd find the Orchard Lane address so fast."

Elena gripped the phone until the casing groaned. The "camouflage" hadn't just been about a fake mother; it had been a tactical diversion. Julianne had used Elena's suburban normalcy as a shield, and now the shield was about to be shattered.

"Stay inside, Elena," Julianne said, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "I'm sending security."