Chapter 191
Chapter 191:
Tears pushed past her eyelashes before she could stop them.
“It’s my mother,” Abbie choked out, her voice fracturing. “The nursing home is raising its rates again. I can’t cover the bills anymore. I was up all night trying to figure out what to do.” She looked down at her bleeding finger. “I’m sorry I’m so distracted p>
The sharp suspicion in June’s eyes softened gradually into something quieter.
“There is an employee assistance fund for medical emergencies,” June said. She tore a paper towel from the dispenser and held it out. “I will help you work through it. But you need to get your head straight today p>
Abbie took the paper towel. A suffocating wave of guilt crashed over her — heavier than anything Alycia’s threat had produced. She thanked June repeatedly, despising herself for lying to the only person who had ever genuinely looked out for her.
She glanced at the wall clock.
𝘔o𝗋𝖾 𝘯о𝘃еl𝘴 о𝗻.с𝗼𝗆
Eleven fifty.
Abbie made an excuse about the infirmary and slipped out of the lab, her face bloodless, heading for the elevator that would take her down to the underground garage.
Level B3 of the Apex Bio underground garage was a vast, echoing cavern of concrete. A handful of motion-sensor lights flickered at irregular intervals, throwing long shadows across the empty parking bays.
Abbie pressed her freshly bandaged finger against her chest as she walked. Her footsteps sounded hollow. She moved toward section B, into the blind spot of the security cameras, just as she had been instructed.
A black Range Rover sat in the deepest shadow, engine running, emitting a low, steady hum.
The tinted rear window glided down.
Alycia was in the back seat. Her makeup was immaculate, her eyes cold and venomous.
“Get in,” she said. Her voice had the quality of a blade.
Abbie’s entire body trembled. She pulled the heavy door open and climbed inside.
The thick, suffocating cloud of Alycia’s designer perfume turned her stomach immediately.
Alycia didn’t waste a second. She lifted a manila envelope from the leather seat beside her and dropped it onto Abbie’s lap.
Abbie’s hands shook as she opened the flap. Several high-definition glossy photographs slid out.
They were the originals. Young Abbie, stripped and cowering in the corner of a high school bathroom while a group of girls laughed. Alycia stood front and center, holding the camera.
Abbie’s defenses disintegrated.
She pressed both hands over her mouth as tears poured freely down her face.
“You promised me,” she sobbed. “You promised that if I left Boston, you would destroy the negatives p>
Alycia let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Did you honestly believe I would throw away leverage like this? You are nothing but trash from the slums p>
“What do you want from me?” Abbie begged, her chest heaving. “I’m just an assistant. I don’t have anything you need p>
Alycia’s smile disappeared. Her expression turned to something clinical and precise.