Episode 11 – A Truth Wrapped in Silence
Jasmine's head was spinning.
The chill from the alley hadn't left her bones, even as she sat curled on her couch at home, the flash drive gripped tightly in her hand. Her hoodie was still damp, and her shoes left small prints of rain on the floor, but she didn't care.
Callum Reed?
The man who once held her heart and now held her career in the palm of his hand?
She stared blankly at the TV screen—off, silent—just like her thoughts. Her brain refused to process what she'd heard.
He couldn't be involved.
He wasn't capable of that kind of corruption… right?
But five years ago, he'd vanished without a word.
And now… now he was back, distant, controlled, and powerful in ways she didn't fully understand.
What if the Callum she once loved wasn't the Callum who existed today?
---
The next morning at Phoenix Corp was unusually quiet.
Too quiet.
Jasmine arrived early, hoping to find Callum in his office. This time, the lights were on, and the blinds slightly open. The usual barrier he kept so firmly drawn had a crack. A window into something she wasn't sure she wanted to see.
She knocked once.
"Come in," came his voice—smooth, even, unreadable.
Jasmine stepped inside, and he didn't look up from his laptop.
"Morning," she said softly.
"You're early."
"I needed to speak with you."
That caught his attention. His fingers paused on the keyboard before he leaned back and gave her his full focus.
"Is something wrong?"
Jasmine hesitated, eyes flickering to the door, then back to him. "I ran into someone from Whitmore Enterprises yesterday."
His jaw clenched ever so slightly. "What did they want?"
She didn't answer immediately.
"Jasmine," Callum said, his voice lower, firmer. "What did they say?"
She crossed her arms. "Why don't you tell me? About Eleanor Whitmore? About the things people keep warning me not to look into?"
His expression didn't change. Not visibly.
But she saw it in his eyes.
A flicker of something.
Guilt?
Pain?
Fear?
"You don't know what you're asking," he said finally.
"Then explain it to me," she whispered. "Make me understand."
Callum stood and walked to the window, hands behind his back. He stared out over the city like it held answers he couldn't give her.
"Eleanor's death was a tragedy," he said. "She was investigating internal discrepancies. She found something, and she was silenced for it."
"So you admit it?" Jasmine's voice cracked.
"I didn't say I was involved," he turned to her. "But I was here when it happened. I knew things… and I didn't stop them in time."
Jasmine's heart sank. "So you knew."
"Yes," he said. "But by the time I understood the full extent, it was too late. The moment Eleanor died, I became their next liability. I disappeared because I had to—because staying meant becoming part of it."
"And now?" she asked. "Are you part of it now?"
He looked at her, something raw and haunted in his eyes. "Now I'm trying to fix it. From the inside."
She wanted to believe him.
God, she wanted to.
But how could she trust a man who vanished without a word? Who kept secrets so dark they led to someone's death?
"I'm going to keep digging," she said firmly. "With or without your help."
"I figured you would," he said with a faint smile. "That's what makes you dangerous."
She turned to leave, but he called her name one more time.
"Jasmine?"
She paused at the door.
"Be careful who you trust."
---
By lunchtime, Jasmine's day had returned to normal—at least on the surface. Emails. Deadlines. Meetings. Max handed her a file with his usual, unreadable look.
"New client project," he said. "Callum wants your eyes on it."
She flipped open the folder and froze.
The client's name?
Whitmore Trust Holdings.
"Why are we working with them?" she asked, trying to stay calm.
Max's lips pressed into a thin line. "Some contracts are inked before the ink even dries."
"What does that mean?"
"It means this goes deeper than you think."
Jasmine looked at the papers again.
Signatures. Account transfers. Off-shore investments.
She wasn't supposed to see this.
But now that she had, there was no turning back.
---
Later that night, Jasmine sat at her kitchen table, a single lamp casting a warm glow across the documents she'd secretly copied from the file Max gave her.
There was a pattern—subtle, buried—but there.
Money funneled into shell companies.
Signed off by people no longer alive.
And one name kept appearing in the background—small, almost insignificant.
The Aurora Initiative.
She Googled it.
Nothing came up.
Until she added Phoenix Corp.
Then a single article popped up—five years old, archived and buried.
A startup funding project—cut short due to "internal complications."
One of the listed investors?
Eleanor Whitmore.
Jasmine sat back in her chair.
Whatever The Aurora Initiative was… Eleanor was part of it. And she suspected Callum had been too.
Before everything went dark.
She closed her laptop slowly, her thoughts racing.
She was closer than ever to the truth.
But something told her that digging further would come with consequences.
Consequences she might not be ready for.