Elodie stepped back into the dining room, her phone still warm against her palm. She had expected to see Maisie chattering animatedly while Sloane smiled along, playing the role of the attentive,

When Elodie opened her eyes, her head throbbed with a blinding, nauseating pain.

She was sitting tied to a wooden chair, her wrists bound tightly behind her back with thick plastic zip-ties, her ankles strapped to the chair legs. Cold air rushed against her skin, carrying the sharp, metallic scent of damp earth and rust.

She wasn't in her house.

Elodie blinked against the dim light, trying to focus her vision. She was in a large, unfinished industrial space—an abandoned lake house or boat house, judging by the massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked out over a dark, mist-covered body of water. Heavy wooden beams supported the ceiling, and dust motes danced in the pale moonlight.

"Ah, you're awake," a voice sounded from the shadows.

Sloane pulled a folding metal chair out from the corner, dragged it across the concrete floor with a grating screech, and sat down directly in front of Elodie, barely two feet away.

"Where... where am I?" Elodie gasped, her throat dry and raw.

"Somewhere quiet," Sloane replied pleasantly, crossing her legs. "A little property Julian’s firm designed five years ago. It’s been sitting empty in the market for months. I managed to acquire a key back when I was still working with him. He always had such wonderful taste in architecture—floor-to-ceiling glass, beautiful isolated views. It’s poetic, really."

"Julian... Maisie..." Elodie struggled against the plastic ties, the sharp edges cutting deep into her skin. "What did you do to them?"

"Nothing," Sloane smiled, leaning forward. "Not yet. I gave you a mild sedative to keep you quiet during the drive. I left a sweet little note on Julian's nightstand, though. I told him that if he wants to see his beloved wife alive, he needs to come here. Alone. No police."

"He won't come alone, Sloane! The police are watching the house!" Elodie screamed, her voice cracking. "They'll track his phone, they'll follow him!"

"Oh, he will come alone," Sloane chuckled softly, tapping her fingers on her knee. "Because I told him that if I see a single police car coming down the access road, I will inject this directly into your neck."

She pulled the syringe from her pocket, holding it up so the moonlight caught the clear liquid inside.

"Potassium chloride," Sloane explained cheerfully. "It stops the heart in seconds. Quite painful, but extremely effective. He knows I'm not bluffing, Elodie. He knows what I'm capable of."

Tears of rage and terror streamed down Elodie’s face. "Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let him go? It was eight years ago!"

Sloane’s smile instantly evaporated, replaced by a dark, terrifying hollow intensity.

"Eight years?" Sloane whispered, her voice trembling with intense rage. "You think it was just eight years ago? Do you have any idea what he did to me, Elodie? I gave him everything! My mind, my talent, my youth! We were going to build an empire together! And he discarded me like garbage! He put me in a cage!"

"You were sick!" Elodie shouted back, her motherly instinct and desperation overriding her fear. "You stalked him! You tried to destroy his life!"

"I loved him!" Sloane roared, standing up so fast the folding chair clattered backward onto the floor. She stepped up to Elodie, grabbing her chin in a vice-like grip, forcing Elodie to look directly into her crazed eyes. "I loved him in a way you are too weak, too simple to ever comprehend! You didn't earn him, Elodie! You just walked into his life when he was lonely and settled for a domesticated, boring life! You stole my future!"

"He never loved you," Elodie spat, staring directly into Sloane’s eyes, refusing to back down. "He told me about you. You were a mistake. A temporary distraction. He loves me. He loves our daughter. And he will never love a monster like you!"

Sloane’s face contorted in pure rage. She raised her hand, striking Elodie hard across the face. The impact snapped Elodie's head to the side, the taste of copper filling her mouth.

"We'll see about that," Sloane panted, her chest heaving as she backed away. "When he gets here, I'm going to make him choose. He can watch you die, or he can leave with me and give us the life we were always meant to have."

Outside, through the massive glass windows overlooking the lake, headlight beams suddenly swept across the trees. A car was speeding down the gravel drive toward the boathouse.