those papers, Emily. One way or another.”

But I wasn’t dying anymore.

I was waiting.

Five minutes later, there was a knock.

“That must be the notary,” Claire said.

The door opened.

But the voice that followed wasn’t a notary’s.

“Good evening, Ryan. Before you touch her again, explain why her brakes were cut.”

Everything stopped.

And I realized—

this was only continue reading …