Chapter Two
Cracks in the Story
It took another twenty-four hours before Elias could get Amara out on bail. Not because she was a flight risk—she had nowhere to go—but because the DA's office was dragging its feet, probably trying to figure out just how political this case was going to get.
When she stepped out of the courthouse, blinking into the blinding afternoon sun, the first thing she saw was a wall of reporters.
"Amara! Did you kill your aunt?"
"What were you doing at the house that night?"
"Is it true you were fighting with her over money?"
She froze. Her hands instinctively clenched at her sides, but Elias was already there, shielding her with his body and an outstretched arm.
"No comment," he said, his voice like stone. "Step back."
He guided her to the waiting car like it was second nature. Once inside, Amara finally exhaled.
"Is it always like this?" she asked.
Elias gave a humorless smile. "Only when someone wants you to look guilty before the trial even starts."
They drove in silence for a moment. The city blurred past the window again, but this time she wasn't cuffed, wasn't cold. Still, the freedom felt… fragile.
"My aunt was alive when I got there," she said suddenly. "I heard something in the house. A crash. I thought she'd fallen."
Elias didn't interrupt.
"I found her in the study. Blood everywhere. But she was still breathing… barely. I called 911, and I was trying to stop the bleeding. Then she said something."
Elias turned slightly toward her. "What did she say?"
Amara's eyes met his, haunted. "She said, 'Tell him… don't trust them.' Then she was gone."
"Tell who, Amara?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
Elias leaned back, his mind already piecing it together. This wasn't a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Monica West knew something—or someone—was coming for her. And her niece? She was the inconvenient witness that had to be erased from the narrative.
They had enemies now. The kind with influence, reach, and no reason to play fair.
"Then we start there," he said. "Whatever she was involved in—we find it. And we find out who she didn't trust."
Because in cases like this, the truth wasn't just buried—it was protected.
They started meeting daily. At first, it was strictly business—notes, statements, digging into old case files. But as the days slipped by, their conversations began to stray.
She asked about his firm, how he started it with nothing but a borrowed desk and a promise to help people no one else would. He asked about her childhood, what it was like growing up under her aunt's shadow, the girl behind the headlines.
One evening, as rain tapped against the office windows, she paused mid-sentence. "You ever think maybe we're not supposed to win?"
He looked up from his notes, brow furrowed. "You mean because she's powerful?"
She nodded. "And because I'm just... me."
He set his pen down. "You're not just anything. You're the reason I took this case."
That stunned her. "You didn't even know me."
"I didn't have to. I saw someone who'd been silenced. Someone they wanted to bury. That was enough."
For a long moment, all she could do was stare at him. And for the first time in weeks, she smiled.
That night, after she left, he stood alone in the office, watching the city lights flicker through the rain. Something had shifted between them. Not just trust—something deeper. Something he couldn't quite name yet.
--
The office was quieter than usual when Amara arrived. The hum of the city outside was muffled, but inside, the air felt dense, like something was about to break.
"Morning," Elias said without looking up. His voice was calm, but his shoulders were tense. His dark curls were slightly messy, and a shadow of stubble framed his jaw—he looked like he hadn't slept much.
"Something's wrong," Amara said, sliding into the chair across from him.
He finally met her eyes. "We've got a problem. Liana—your aunt's assistant—she's being watched."
Amara froze. "Watched? You think my aunt knows she's helping us?"
"She suspects something. Liana reached out to one of my sources, trying to leak information, but she's being followed now. And I'm worried they're pressuring her to back off."
Just then, the door opened and a tall, wiry man stepped inside. His name was Mason. He was one of Elias's oldest friends, a tech whiz who usually preferred staying behind the scenes. With his shaved head, crooked smile, and vintage band tee, he looked more like a musician than a legal hacker.
"You're not gonna like what I found," Mason said, nodding toward Elias. "Liana's phone's been pinged in some weird locations. Someone's either tracking her or she's meeting people she shouldn't be."
Amara leaned forward. "She wouldn't betray us. I saw the fear in her eyes when I was arrested—she knew it was wrong."
Mason shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe she's scared enough to switch sides."
"No," Amara said firmly. "I need to talk to her."
Elias gave her a hard look. "Not alone. If they're closing in on her, you could be walking into a trap."
"Then we'll go together," she said.
Later that day, they found Liana at a quiet café on the edge of town. She was petite, with short, sleek hair and sharp eyes that darted around nervously. She looked nothing like the confident woman Amara remembered from family events—now she seemed fragile, almost haunted.
"I didn't think you'd find me," Liana said softly, eyes flicking toward Elias.
Amara sat across from her. "We need the truth. Are you trying to help me... or are you being used?"
Liana swallowed hard. "I tried to help. I swear. But your aunt—she has people everywhere. I thought I could sneak out pieces of information, but... now they know. I've heard them talk about you, about Elias. You're not just targets—they want to destroy you."
Elias leaned in. "Then give us everything. Help us stop this before it gets worse."
Liana looked between them, fear tightening her features. Then, slowly, she nodded.
Liana glanced over her shoulder, then pulled a folded slip of paper from inside her coat. She slid it across the table toward Elias without a word. He opened it cautiously, his eyes scanning the scribbled notes—names, dates, locations. It wasn't much, but it was enough to raise questions.
"This is a meeting log," Elias muttered. "Why would your aunt be meeting with people from the Department of Justice... and an ex-judge who got disbarred two years ago?"
Liana's voice dropped to a whisper. "Because this isn't just about Amara. Your firm's been digging into cases tied to corruption. You're closer to something big, and they want to silence both of you before you connect the dots."
Amara stared at the paper, her stomach churning. "So this was never just personal. They're using me as bait."
Liana nodded once, eyes flicking around the café. "They think no one will believe you. That no one will care. But I do. I messed up, Amara. I stayed silent when I should've spoken up months ago. I thought I was protecting myself, but I've only made things worse."
There was a beat of silence between them. Then Elias spoke, voice quiet but firm. "You still have a chance to do the right thing. But we need your full cooperation."
Liana swallowed hard, then nodded. "Okay. I'll get you everything I can."
As they stood to leave, Amara noticed Mason standing by the door, watching the street through the café's window. When they approached, he didn't look away.
"I clocked a guy across the street," he muttered. "Plain clothes, but he's been standing there since we arrived. Could be coincidence, but I doubt it."
Elias tensed. "Let's move. Now."
They slipped out the back entrance, Liana tucked between them. The alley was narrow and slick with recent rain, but they moved fast. Elias's car was parked three blocks away—too far for comfort.
Mason split off to loop around and draw any tails, while Elias kept Liana and Amara moving. Every step felt heavier than the last.
When they finally reached the car, Amara climbed in, heart still pounding. As Elias started the engine, she looked over at Liana, who stared straight ahead, silent.
This was the beginning of something darker—she could feel it. They were closer to the truth now, but it came at a price. Trust was thinner, the stakes higher.
And deep down, Amara knew: someone would pay for all of this. The only question was who—and how far they were willing to go to survive it.