Page 28 of Isolation

“Did Mason go down okay?”

“Yeah. He did. He’s out like a light. He could sleep through an apocalypse.” I laughed.

My phone buzzed a few times in succession, kicking up my heart rate.

“Someone blowing up your phone?” Danica asked.

“Damn, probably the group chat,” I responded, trying to sound annoyed as I pulled out my phone.

It wasn’t the group chat. It was Coach. He sent three messages in a row.

We need to talk.

About your recent press comments.

Stay in line or be replaced.

The last line hit me like a body check I hadn’t seen coming. I had to consciously relax my facial muscles to keep Danica from seeing how the words affected me.

“Everything okay?” She was leaning on the counter, and the kettle began to whistle.

“Yeah. Just Coach being Coach. He always freaks out before big games.” I forced a laugh.

“What does he want now?”

For a split second, I considered showing Danica the messages and allowing her PR trained mind to help me navigate the waters, but that would explain why the Coach felt the needto threaten me in the first place. I would have to unravel everything.

“Nothing important. He wants me to study some file notes for tomorrow’s practice.” I slid the phone back into my pocket with the screen illuminated.

“It’s late.” Danica’s eyebrows were arched.

“Basketball never sleeps. You know how it is.”

If you’re reading this,something has happened. Everything you need is attached. The password is Wizards. I know you were right about Mateo. I’m sorry I didn’t listen sooner.

I hadn’t attached anything. That would come later if needed, but I saved it as a draft, a digital dead man’s switch. I closed the laptop with more force than necessary. The snap of it echoed in the quiet room.

I glanced at the clock. Mateo left at this late hour to do something at the practice facility, or so he said. Still, I didn’t fight him on it because I needed the time to take care of this business. One task down. One to go. Standing, I headed to my bedroom and grabbed the essentials I had gathered—birth certificates, insurance cards, bank cards from my separate account, and cash.

The hallway was silent as I made my way to Mason’s bedroom. He slept as I tiptoed over building blocks that were scattered across the floor from this evening’s playtime. There was a half-finished drawing of what might be our family or might be dinosaurs. It was hard to tell with a five-year-old artist sitting on his little table.

I crossed to the toy chest, lifting the lid slowly to minimize the creak. Inside were the well-loved collection of action figures, toy cars, and stuffed animals piled in a soft mountain. I dug through until I found what I was looking for—the ratty teddy bear that had been with Mason since he was an infant. It wasn’t his favorite anymore but familiar enough that he’d notice if it disappeared completely.

“Sorry, Mr. Ratty Bear,” I whispered, turning the stuffed animal over in my hands. I worked my finger along the seam of his back to pry open the velcro and removed some of the stuffing, creating the perfect hiding place.I then carefully tucked everything inside Mr. Ratty Bear’s hollow middle. My fingers worked quickly to press the velcro, closing him back up.

“There,” I said, giving the ratty bear a gentle pat before returning him to his spot in the toy chest, strategically placed so he looked untouched but wasn’t buried too deep. I arranged a few other toys around him for good measure.

As I closed the lid, a realization hit me.The USB drive—the original one in the safe that started all this, the one I’d found by accident last week when looking for our passports. It contained files that would be impossible to explain away as anything but damning.

“Shit,” I whispered. Anxiety flooded my system. How could I have forgotten about it? The smoking gun that made me lookdeeper in the first place. I needed to grab it and tuck it away in Mr. Ratty Bear with the other things.

I moved quickly, abandoning stealth for speed as I headed toward our bedroom. To grab the flash drive that could unravel everything Mateo had built—everything we’d built. The safe was built onto the wall of our walk-in closet, hidden behind my designer purses. Only Mateo and I knew about it.

My heart pounded as I realized a few of my bags had been knocked over. I reached for the keypad with my fingers poised to input the code, but I stopped. What was I doing? Creating insurance policies against my own husband? Planning an escape route like I was in some kind of thriller movie? The woman who gave up her career to stand by her man was now gathering evidence against him like a betrayal scrapbook.

But then I remembered the voice on that recording. The cold calculation in Mateo’s tone when he thought no one was listening, the look in his eyes, that split-second darkness when I casually mentioned Remi had reached out to me.

I steadied my fingers. The safe door was already cracked open an inch when I reached for it, and my stomach dropped to my feet like I’d just plummeted twenty floors in a broken elevator. My fingers hovered above the handle, trembling slightly as I pulled it wider. The usual stuff was there—passports, documents, the stack of emergency cash. But the small black USB drive that was supposed to be tucked in the corner where I’d hidden it last week was gone… just fucking gone. My breath caught in my throat. I reached in as if it might have been overlooked rather than missing.

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