Page 13 of Curse

Nausea washes over me. I have never seen anyone murdered before. My mind turns to Emily, and I have the fleeting thought that whether or not the plane crash was intentional, at least she didn’t die like this.

I know Emily told me not to, but I call Franco anyway. He’s a New York cop, and even though she was adamant about keeping him out of this, I can’t shake the feeling that he might have answers.

He can be an asshole, sure, a mama’s boy, spoiled and entitled, but Emily’s his sister too. If nothing else, I’m counting on his pride to be damaged by the notion that someone would get away with harming someone in his family.

He picks up on the first ring. “Where are you?”

“I’m in town. I’m fine.”

“You’re in town?” His voice sharpens. “So you were out of town? You didn’t try to go find Emily, did you?”

“I didn’t just try.” My grip tightens on the phone. “I found the lake where her plane crashed, and I got some of her things.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Siena?” he snaps. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Stay out of this!”

Of course. Typical Franco. Always barking orders, always trying to be in control. I grind my teeth and press on. “She had a flash drive, Franco. There was a video on it of people I don’tknow. Do you have access to biometric tracking systems? I’d bet everything I own that the guy in this video is the reason why Emily and Mikey were on the run. And the reason their plane crashed.”

Franco sighs. “Siena, what are you talking about?”

“Do you have—”

“I heard you,” he cuts me off. There’s a pause, long enough that I almost think he’s hung up. “Why do you think the crash wasn’t an accident? You have no reason to believe that. And if you’re right…” He exhales sharply. “Then you just stole evidence from a crime scene.”

A dry laugh escapes me. “That’s your primary concern? Evidence? Seriously, Franco, what the fuck is wrong withyou?”

He keeps going like I haven’t said a word. “And if someone did sabotage the plane, stealing that stuff might have just put a target on your back, Siena.”

Something in his voice makes me pause. He sounds… strange. Not like the arrogant prick I’m used to. Serious. Worried? That can’t be right.

“I mean, I guess it’s possible,” I say absentmindedly, staring at the screen.

Matti flashes across my mind. He seemed so out of place down there, and maybe he was. Maybe he was there because he orchestrated the plane crash and came to check out his handiwork.

And watch me steal Emily’s stuff.

“Siena, I know you think I’m an asshole. But listen to me: you work at a nonprofit, for fuck’s sake. This is out of your league, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I roll my eyes and close the video. Of course, Franco thinksI’m incompetent. That’s his default setting. But as the video window shrinks, I spot another thumbnail at the bottom of the screen, half-hidden.

“Franco, she’s your sister, too. He’s your brother-in-law. Why aren’t you more interested in figuring this out?”

His voice fades into background noise as I click the new file open. My pulse quickens as the screen fills with blue and white. Lines crisscrossing. Words and numbers scribbled in neat blue text. Xs mark points of interest.

Blueprints.

It takes me a moment to piece it together. Not just a fragment—this looks like an entire set of blueprints. But blueprints for what?

At first, the lines and shapes on the screen confuse me. It almost looks like plans for separate buildings, but then I realize it’s a single structure, mapped out floor by floor. My eyes catch on the tiny text in the bottom corner: One Pearl Park Plaza.

That’s in the Battery. I know exactly where that is. It’s not close to where I work, but it’s not far either. The iconic old building with its brick facade and towering spire, standingsentinel for over a century. These days, it’s just offices, I think, but seeing it here, tied to everything else on this flash drive, only worsens my confusion.

Why the hell would blueprints be on the same flash drive as a snuff video? And why did Emily even have this in the first place?

“Franco.” I interrupt him. “What’s at One Pearl Park Plaza?”

My fingers skim the screen, tracing over the blueprint’s grid lines. The building is old, practically ancient by modern standards, and yet, somehow, it’s tied to Emily’s death?

Franco sighs, his tone clipped. “You’re not even listening to me, are you? Siena, bring the flash drive to the station and whatever else you found. Just bring it in. Let me do my job, please?”

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