Page 41 of Stalk Me

The next few minutes stretch into an eternity as I watch him work, each keystroke potentially bringing me closer to the information I need or to complete failure. Finally, a new window appears, filled with folders and file names.

"I'm in," he says, sounding almost as surprised as I feel. "It looks like an automated backup system for your father's main email account. Everything gets archived here."

Relief floods through me, so powerful it almost makes my knees buckle. "Show me."

He moves aside, allowing me to take his place at the keyboard. The folders are organized by date, with the most recent at the top. My hands tremble slightly as I click on it, revealing hundreds of emails—business correspondence, meeting requests, and there—communications with names I recognize as regular guests at my parents' parties. I search the names of the most recent houses—New York, Austin, Venice. Thousands of emails, every last detail preserved, scanned, cataloged.

"I don't think you should be looking at this." Professor Austin's voice is soft but laced with uncertainty.

I don't reply. As I read, a chill settles over me, turning my bones to ice. Most of the emails reference deals, meetings, and auctions I don't understand, but a few stand out among the rest, their language making my blood run cold.

One subject line catches my eye: "Re: Stone Situation." I click it open, heart pounding.

The email loads, revealing a conversation between my father and a name I don't recognize but that sounds vaguely familiar from whispered conversations at midnight galas.

Sebastian,

The Stone boy continues to be a concern. Our surveillance indicates developing attachment to L. Recommend immediate extraction and recalibration before the situation deteriorates further. Standard protocols apply.

Awaiting authorization,

D.G.

My father's response is brief:

Authorized. Preparation for Munich is underway. Will require a full team once the planning stage is complete.

S.Q.

The blood in my veins turns to ice. Munich. That's where they took me after I got too close to Alex, where they "recalibrated" me with a combination of drugs and threats until I was compliant again. And now they're planning the same for Erik. Or is it for me?

"Luna?" Professor Austin's voice seems to come from far away. "What is it?"

I can't speak, can't even breathe properly. The room seems to spin around me as the full implications of what I'm reading sink in. They know about Erik. They're planning to take him, to do to him what they did to me, to break him until he's no longer a threat to their control.

"I need to download these," I manage finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "All of them."

Professor Austin hesitates. "That might trigger security alerts?—"

"I don't care." I turn to face him, letting him see the desperation in my eyes. "Please. This is life or death."

Something in my expression must convince him because he nods, taking control of the keyboard again. "I'll set up a secure transfer to an encrypted drive. It'll take a few minutes."

As he works, I continue scrolling through the emails, each one more damning than the last. Correspondence with Munich doctors discussing "treatment protocols" for "resistant subjects." Messages to private security firms authorizing surveillance of Shark Bay. Reports on Erik's movements, his background, and his weaknesses.

And worst of all, a message from Belle's father to mine:

Sebastian,

My daughter has been most cooperative in providing information about your situation at SBU. As agreed, we expect the Munich facility to be available for our use next quarter. Regarding our other subjects, James has become increasingly difficult to manage, and Isabelle’s methods have proven insufficient.

Regards,

Richard Gallagher

Belle. She hasn't been working to bring my family down. The only person she wants to ruin is me. She's been working with them all along, feeding them information about me, about Erik, about everything happening at Shark Bay. Not because she hates me, but because her own family is using her just like mine uses me.

It's almost too much to process, too many betrayals and threats layered on top of each other like a poisonous cake.

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