Page 68 of Betray Me
You were meant to be next. You still are. Your parents’ cooperation bought you time, nothing more. The ritual must be completed, the circle must be closed. The punishment for failure awaits. Soon.
The room spins slightly as the implications crash over me. All this time, I thought I was being framed for Janet’s murder, that my parents had set me up to take the fall for their crimes. But the truth is so much worse.
I wasn’t meant to be the killer. I was meant to be another victim.
“This symbol,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been seeing it everywhere. The boat, my parents’ associates, and just now…”
“What? Where just now?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. But it’s so fresh in my mind that I’m certain I saw it this morning.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. “Mrs. Harpsons stopped me during my run, wanted to chat about my ‘trauma’ and how it shapes us, and then I came here. But I can’t pinpoint where and when I saw the ring. All those drugs they made me take throughout the years… Oh, God, Max, my mind’s a mess.”
Max’s expression darkens. “That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Nothing about this is coincidence.” I gather the photos with hands that won’t stop shaking. “Max, if this symbol represents some kind of inner circle, if they’re still operating…”
“Then we’re all still in danger.” He moves to the window, scanning the campus below with new wariness. “Luna, Erik, David Stone. Anyone connected to bringing down the Queens and your parents.”
I think about Luna’s text yesterday, mentioning strange hang-up calls at her apartment. Erik’s comment about feeling watched during his morning runs. David Stone’s increased security detail that I assumed was standard procedure for high-profile prosecutors.
We’re all being hunted.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from an unknown number:
Check your laptop. The truth about your parents’ protection is waiting.
“How did they get this number?” I breathe, showing Max the message. “I changed it after the trial. Only you, Luna, Erik, and David have it.”
“Someone’s been tracking us more closely than we thought.” Max’s jaw tightens as he studies the text. “Should we check the laptop?”
Every instinct screams that this is a trap, but the alternative—living in ignorance while someone pulls strings from the shadows—is worse. I power up my laptop, noting how slowly it boots, how certain programs seem to be running in the background without my permission.
A new folder has appeared on my desktop:PROTECTION PROTOCOLS
Inside are documents I’ve never seen before—financial records, correspondence, operational reports. All bearing the letterhead of a private security firm called Cerberus Solutions. As I read, a horrifying picture emerges.
My parents didn’t just exploit children for their powerful friends. They were part of a larger cult-like network, one that required periodic sacrifices to maintain order and silence. The inner circle—the ones with the symbol—demanded blood offerings from member families to ensure loyalty and secrecy.
Instead of Janet Wilson, that night was supposed to be Luna’s sacrifice, but then Luna’s worth grew, and they wanted to collect on it by marrying her off to get another powerful pawn into their midst. Senator Wilson got off on the wrong foot withthe higher-ups, and they took his daughter instead. But still… something went wrong. The punishing ritual was interrupted. According to these documents, the debt was transferred to the Gallagher family, with me designated as the substitute offering.
“They saved me,” I whisper, scanning pages of coded communications between my parents and their handlers. “By framing me for Janet’s murder, by making me believe I was guilty, they protected me from this.” I gesture at the screen, where details of the ritual requirements are laid out with clinical precision. “The guilt was meant to keep me compliant, but it also made me untouchable. You can’t sacrifice someone who’s already destroyed.”
Max reads over my shoulder, his presence warm and solid as my world continues to crumble. “But now that you’ve testified, now that you’ve proven you’re not broken…”
“The protection is gone.” I close the laptop, unable to look at any more evidence of the nightmare that’s been orchestrating my life from the shadows. “Whoever this Architect is, whoever’s really running the network—they think it’s time to collect what they’re owed.”
My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a call from Detective Harper, and I answer without thinking.
“Don’t talk long,” he says without preamble. “Your phone’s been compromised. They’re tracking everything.”
“How do you know?”
“Because mine is too. Belle, you need to get somewhere safe. Now. I got an envelope, and I assume you did too. The surveillance photos they sent us—those were takenby professionals. Military-grade equipment. This isn’t some remnant of your parents’ operation. This is something bigger.”
The line goes dead before I can respond, leaving me staring at my phone like it’s a poisonous snake.
“We need to leave,” Max says, already moving toward the door. “If they can hack our phones, monitor our movements, plant evidence on our computers…”
“Where can we go?” The question sounds pathetic even to my own ears. “If this network is as far-reaching as these documents suggest, if they have people inside the school administration…”
