Page 47 of Stalk Me

"These are my father's emails," I explain, opening the folder. "Every plan, every scheme, documented in meticulous detail."

Erik leans forward, scanning the screen as I pull up the most damning evidence. His expression darkens as he reads the correspondence about him, about me, about the network of influence my parents have built.

"Jesus, Luna," he whispers, eyes widening at a particularly explicit exchange about their plans for him. "This is organized crime. This is… this is beyond fucked up."

"I know." My voice comes out small, vulnerable. "This is the world I've been trying to escape."

He turns to me, and for a terrible moment, I think this is it—the moment he realizes I'm too damaged, too dangerous to be around. Instead, he takes my hand, his grip firm and grounding.

"We need to go to the authorities with this."

I shake my head. "You don't understand. My parents own half the police force in just about every state. They have judges and prosecutors in their pocket. If we go to the wrong person, we're dead."

"Then we find the right person." His determination is unwavering. "There has to be someone who can help us."

"Maybe." I bite my lip, thinking of Professor Austin, of the risk he took helping me. "But first, we need to get you somewhere safe. Once they realize I have these files, they'll come for both of us."

Erik's grip on my hand tightens. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"You don't have a choice. They're watching every move I make. If I try to leave Shark Bay without their permission, they'll know immediately."

"Then we make them think everything's going according to plan." He stands, pacing the small room as ideas form. "We accept the invitation, play along. Let them think I'm walking right into their trap."

I stare at him, fear gripping my heart. "That's suicide."

"Not if we're prepared. Not if we control the narrative." His eyes meet mine, fierce and determined. "You know how they operate. You know their weaknesses. We use that."

The certainty in his voice almost makes me believe it's possible. Almost. "It's too dangerous, Erik. You have no idea what they're capable of."

"Actually, I think I do." He gestures to the laptop, to the evidence of my parents' crimes. "And now I have proof. We both do."

He crouches in front of me, taking both my hands in his. "Luna, I know you're scared. I am, too. But this is our chance to end this—not just for us, but for everyone they've hurt. Everyone they're planning to hurt."

I want to argue, to protect him from this darkness that's consumed my life. But there's a part of me that's so tired of running, of hiding, of surviving instead of living.

"We'll need help," I admit reluctantly. "Someone outside their influence."

"My brother." The words come quickly, confidently. "David works for the DA's office in Boston. He's clean, incorruptible. If anyone can help us navigate this safely, it's him."

I consider this, turning the possibility over in my mind. "Can you trust him with this? With everything?"

"With my life." Erik's conviction is unshakable. "With your life."

The weight of his trust, his determination, breaks something loose inside me. For the first time since arriving at Shark Bay, I allow myself to consider the possibility of freedom—not just temporary escape, but true liberation from my parents' control.

"Okay," I whisper, the decision crystallizing. "But we do this my way. Carefully. One wrong move, and we lose everything."

Relief floods his features. "Your way. I promise."

I move to the window, checking for any signs of surveillance. The courtyard below is empty, and the other dorms are quiet in the late afternoon light. "We need somewhere private to talk, somewhere they won't be listening."

Erik thinks for a moment. "The cliffs. There's a spot on the south side, away from the usual hiking trails. No cameras, no people."

"Meet me there in an hour," I say, already calculating risks and contingencies. "Bring your phone but turn it off once you're outside. And, Erik…" I turn to face him, the gravity of our situation heavy between us. "If anything feels wrong, if you see anyone following you, don't go to the cliffs. Get off the island any way you can."

He nods, understanding the stakes. I get up to leave but hesitate and turn back to him.

"Why are you doing this?" I have to ask. "Why risk everything for me?"

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