Chapter 9 - Noon
At 8:05 the next morning, Claire filed for an emergency injunction.
At 8:40, a judge agreed to hear the matter before the scheduled closing.
At 9:10, Ryan's legal team argued that I was medically compromised and acting under the influence of my sister.
At 9:25, Claire submitted the fake psychiatric intake, the forged board resolution, and a still image from the security footage.
By 9:37, the judge froze the sale.
For the first time since the fall, I felt like the ground beneath me might hold.
Then Peter Sloan disappeared.
The bank claimed he had taken sudden personal leave.
His phone went straight to voicemail.
His house was empty.
Detective Ortiz did not call it running.
She did not have to.
At noon, the hospital released me under strict instructions: limited activity, immediate return if contractions resumed, and no being alone for the next forty-eight hours.
I refused to return to the estate.
Maya took me to her apartment.
Before we left, a nurse handed me an envelope delivered by courier.
No return address.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
STOP BEFORE SOMEONE GETS HURT.
Maya read it over my shoulder.
"We're giving that to police."
"Yes."
My hands were shaking anyway.
At Maya's building, two officers checked the lobby and elevator before we went upstairs.
Her apartment had always felt safe to me.
That night, it did not.
I slept in her room while she took the couch.
At 1:16 a.m., glass shattered in the living room.
Maya screamed my name.
I sat up too fast, pain pulling across my abdomen.
"Stay there!" she shouted.
I heard footsteps.
A struggle.
Something heavy hit the floor.
Then silence.
I grabbed my phone and called 911.
"Maya?"
No answer.
I opened the bedroom door.
The living room window was broken.
A brick lay on the floor wrapped in a plastic bag.
Maya stood near the kitchen holding a lamp like a weapon.
No intruder.
No footsteps now.
Only the sound of the city outside.
We did not touch the brick.
Police arrived within minutes.
Inside the plastic bag was another note.
May you like
This time, the message was handwritten.
You were supposed to fall harder.
