Page 52 of King

Monica’s expression softened slightly. “I’m so sorry about Lee and Joey,” she said, sincerity clear in her tone.

Amara held her gaze for a beat before giving a slight nod. “Thank you,” she replied. “And thank you for bringing Joey to the ER. He might not have made it if it weren’t for you.”

Monica exhaled as if she had been expecting more resistance. “I did what I could, but it wasn’t enough.”

King, observing the exchange, stepped forward. "You can do more now,” he said, his tone firm yet gentle. “Start talking.”

“It’s a little complicated, but I’ll do my best,” Monica finally said, her voice laced with something that sounded a lot like regret. She cast a quick glance at Kane, who stared at her with an unreadable expression before shifting her focus back to Amara. “I work with a Victims Advocate group for abused, addicted, and trafficked women. It’s my job to listen, help, and get them to safety when possible. But that wasn’t the only reason I went into this occupation.”

Her voice caught for a second, but she pushed forward.

“My older sister disappeared ten years ago,” Monica said, her voice trembling slightly. She swallowed hard, cleared her throat, and tried again. “The local police believed she was one of the women caught up in a trafficking ring they had busted. Only two women were rescued during that raid. My sister wasn’t among them.”

She paused, her eyes glistening with memories that had clearly haunted her for a decade.

“But one of the survivors remembered her.” Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides. “She told me my sister was there. But after the raid, she was just gone.”

King had a bad feeling he knew exactly what this woman was about to say. His eyes shifted to Kane, who looked at him with the same look.

“Working with these women, I get a lot of insider information.” Monica’s voice grew more intense. “My sister’s case is still open. I’ve fought to keep it that way. If I discover any clues, I send them to the detective assigned to her case.”

“So, you’re using these women,” Kane said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.

“Kane!” Amara gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Screw you,” Monica hissed, then turned to Amara. “I truly am sorry about what happened to Lee.”

King watched as Monica headed for the door and started to go after her, but Amara beat him to it. She stopped in front of Monica.

“Please,” Amara’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. “I have to find out who did this to my brother and why.” Her entire body was tense with grief and determination. “I lost my brother, but Joey… Joey lost his father.” Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to meet Monica’s gaze. “You know how that feels, Monica. The not knowing.”

Monica flinched as if Amara’s words had physically struck her. For a long moment, she said nothing, just stared at Amara withsomething unreadable in her expression. Then, with a slow, heavy sigh, she finally spoke.

“A man named John Griffen killed Lee.”

The air in the room seemed to shift, thickening with the weight of those words. Amara inhaled sharply, but Monica continued before she could even process the name.

“A group of people found your name on a list,” Monica said, her voice quieter now but no less intense. “John was blackmailing your brother. They wanted you, Amara, but Lee refused. He told them he didn’t know where you were.” She shook her head. “John didn’t believe him. But instead of killing him outright, he kept Lee around, forcing him to do his dirty work, holding Joey’s life over his head like a loaded gun.”

“He did it to protect Joey,” Amara whispered, her voice barely audible, as if saying it out loud would shatter what little control she had left.

“And you.” Monica’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “Listen, I don’t know why John wanted you so badly, but he did. He worked for someone higher up, and I think the pressure was on. Lee showed up that night, and John was relentless, threatening Joey, pushing every button he could.” She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before continuing. “Lee lost it. They fought, but... well, you know how it ended.”

Amara felt her throat tighten as the image of her brother flashed in her mind. The warmth of his laughter. The protective way he always looked at her.

“Is he the one who did that to Joey?” King’s voice was low, controlled but Amara could hear the barely restrained fury beneath it.

Monica shook her head. “No. But I don’t know who did.” Her gaze flicked to King’s. “I overheard a phone call and realized something had happened to Joey on John’s order. I left and searched for him. The rest... you already know.”

“Where can I find this son of a bitch?” King asked, his voice like a storm rolling in, dark and dangerous.

Monica checked her watch, then looked back up. “Not around here. He’ll stay away until the investigation dies down.”

Kane, who had been silent until now, pushed off the wall, his eyes locked on Monica. “What part in all of this did you play?” His voice was sharp, cutting straight through the tension in the room.

Monica didn’t even look at him. She exhaled through her nose, then turned to Amara instead. “Can I ask how Joey is doing?”

Amara hesitated. A part of her wanted to shut down, to close herself off from this woman who had been tied to her brother’s final moments. But something in Monica’s expression—something haunted, something tangible—made her answer.

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