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Ellie parked her car outside Matthew’s apartment complex, a modest building painted in Cayman shades that were now faded yellow and blue. The morning sun was bright, the kind of day when the sun cast golden light on everything it touched.

Her mood was anything but sunny.

Everything was timed meticulously. She was in the position to leave his apartment at the same time she texted him that day. While traffic might vary, it should be similar enough to be conclusive.

She started her stopwatch at the exact time she sent Matthew the text. Since he said he was working, she waited one minute before leaving. It’d take him at least that long to drop what he was doing, run to his car, and race to the hotel. She assumed he’d drive faster than normal, considering the urgency behind her text.

Ellie tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she pulled out of the parking lot. Her stopwatch sat on the console. Itsdigital display glowed, and she glanced at it dozens of times as the numbers ticked away with cold precision.

Seconds passed like dripping water, slow and methodical, each pulling her closer to an answer she wasn’t sure she wanted. What if she was wrong? What if Matthew had been exactly where he said he was? She was already chastising herself for overanalyzing things again.

But then there was the other possibility. The one that sent ice curling through her veins.

What if he was lying?

A bead of sweat traced a path down the back of her neck despite the cool blast of air conditioning. The reality of what she was doing hit her with full force. She wasn’t just testing a hunch. She was gathering proof that the man she had trusted, the man who had saved her life more than once, might be playing her.

Her stomach twisted at the idea. but she forced herself to push forward. Feelings had no place in this. If Matthew was the mole, emotions would only get in the way.

She pressed her foot harder on the gas.

There was no turning back now.

Her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as she held it too tightly. Each beat of the stopwatch counted down the seconds she couldn’t spare. The island’s palm trees blurred past, and the shimmering waves in the distance offered no comfort.

Her eyes darted between the timer and the traffic ahead.

Why was she so nervous? She shifted in her seat, her back stiff with tension, as though bracing for an impact that hadn’t yet come.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath as her foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

The island’s winding roads curved ahead, lined with swaying palm trees that danced to the breeze as if cheering her on. Ellie’s mind raced faster than the car, trying to calculate what it mightmean if Matthew couldn’t have covered this distance in the time he claimed.

Frustration intensified when she had to slow down for a minivan that crawled along in front of her. She checked the stopwatch again. Precious seconds slipped away.

Ellie gritted her teeth. Every tick of the clock felt like proof that Matthew had lied.

Yet she didn’t want to believe what seemed obvious. What if he hadn’t gotten behind a slow driver? What if traffic was lighter then than it was today?

The minutes stretched painfully thin. Her gaze obsessively flitted between the road and the timer. The lush greenery of the island and the beautiful sea to her left blurred past her, but Ellie barely noticed.

The timer reached one minute. At ten seconds, denial was replaced with extreme disappointment. She’d hoped against hope that she was wrong.

She wasn’t. The numbers weren’t adding up.

A knot of dread coiled in her stomach as she banged her hand on the steering wheel.

What if I miscalculated?Desperation clawed at the edges of reason.

But she knew better. This wasn’t a rounding error or a misjudgment. The discrepancy wasn’t minor—it was eight full minutes.

When she finally pulled into the hotel parking lot, her heart sank. She killed the engine and sat there in the heavy silence. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

The truth was clear: Matthew’s story didn’t fit.

She stared out the windshield, but her vision tunneled, the world around her shrinking until all that remained was the cold realization settling in her bones. If he had lied about this, what else had he lied about?

The memory of his voice played in her mind, steady, convincing, without a trace of hesitation. She had trusted that voice. Had fallen for the way he made her feel safe.