Noah stared at Vivian, aghast, disbelief frozen across his features.

  “Viv—what have you done?” His voice cracked, strained with a mixture of shock and hurt. It was as though he could hardly comprehend what he was seeing: Martha, unconscious and bound tightly to a kitchen chair, head hanging loosely against her chest.

  Vivian stood her ground, her eyes blazing fiercely despite the tremble in her fingers. “You don’t understand,” she breathed heavily, her voice almost breaking under the strain of what she’d done. She tried desperately to steady her nerves, to explain clearly and calmly. “In the bathroom mirror—there’s a symbol, a secret sign that Serena and I made years ago.”

  Noah frowned deeply, confusion evident. “What symbol? Viv, slow down. Talk to me.”

  Her words came faster, urgency growing in her voice. “It’s a tic-tac-toe grid—simple lines carved faintly into the mirror frame. In the center square, there’s a distinct circle marked through by a diagonal line. It slants upwards, left to right, at exactly a ten-o’clock angle.”

  Noah’s confusion deepened. “I don’t understand. What’s it supposed to mean?”

  “It was our secret,” Vivian explained, her voice tight with memory and worry. “We promised each other. If either of us were ever trapped or in danger—somewhere we couldn’t escape—we’d leave that mark. Even Vince didn’t know about it. It was something just between Serena and me. No one else.”

  Noah hesitated, visibly torn. His loyalty to Martha was clear, and the shock in his expression intensified as he tried to process Vivian’s accusation. “You’re sure? Absolutely sure it was Serena who left it?”

  “Yes,” Vivian said firmly. Her voice cracked slightly, frustration mounting. “Please. Just go look for yourself.”

  Noah glanced uneasily at Martha, still unconscious and bound. Without another word, he turned quickly and headed to the bathroom, footsteps heavy as he ascended the stairs.

  Vivian remained frozen, breathing unsteadily. A heavy, nauseating sensation twisted in her stomach. The quiet house seemed suddenly oppressive, silence broken only by the distant creak of Noah’s movements upstairs.

  When Noah returned, his face had changed entirely, drained of color, mouth set into a tight, stunned line. He stood frozen at the base of the stairs, meeting Vivian’s gaze with wide, haunted eyes.

  “You’re right,” he whispered, disbelief evident. “It’s there, exactly as you said.”

  Vivian nodded sharply, swallowing hard. “I told you. She knows more than she’s saying. I just need to know why.”

  Noah hesitated, torn between the need to protect Martha—the woman who had become a mother figure—and his fierce loyalty to Vivian, the person he believed was his soulmate. He shook his head slowly, pleadingly. “We can’t hurt her.”

  Vivian’s stomach twisted. She saw something in Noah’s face she’d never seen directed at her before—fear. Fear of her. The weight of his judgment struck her sharply, and she visibly blanched. Her voice became defensive, shaky. “I never said I would. But she knows more than she says. I just need to know what it is.”

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  Noah began pacing anxiously across the kitchen, back and forth, stress evident in his every tense movement. Vivian sank into a chair, her head resting heavily in her trembling hands.

  As Noah paced, his eyes fell upon the tea Martha had begun preparing earlier. Beside it rested a small glass bottle filled with an unknown liquid. Hesitantly, he picked it up, pulling out the stopper and sniffing the contents.

  His face paled visibly. A medicinal scent filled his senses—sharp, pungent, and unmistakable. Drugs. Martha had intended to drug their tea.

  For a long moment, Noah said nothing, simply replacing the bottle on the counter, unable to voice this betrayal to Vivian yet. His expression hardened, his jaw clenching tightly.

  A quiet groan broke the heavy silence. Both Noah and Vivian snapped their heads toward Martha as she slowly regained consciousness, shifting in confusion as she realized she was bound securely to the chair. Her gaze lifted slowly, meeting their wary, watchful stares.

  She sighed deeply, shoulders sagging in resignation, defeat clear in her eyes. “Jig’s up, I guess?” Martha murmured quietly, not even bothering to feign innocence.

  “Martha,” Noah said softly, disbelief and pain evident. “Why?”

  Martha met his gaze with steady resolve, but beneath it was a quiet plea. “You both need to stop this. You have no idea what you’re up against. The man behind all of this is too powerful. Too dangerous.” Her voice trembled slightly, desperation seeping through her calm exterior. “Let it go. While he’s not looking for you, just live your normal lives. Disappear again—this time, for good.”

  Noah’s eyes darkened, heart aching at her words. “Marcus wouldn’t have wanted this for you, Noah,” Martha implored quietly. “He wanted you to have a clean, safe life. Not this. Not chasing shadows, risking everything.”

  Vivian stood abruptly, her voice tight with barely suppressed anger and frustration. “I don’t care about the man behind this. I don’t care about any of it. All I want is Serena. That’s it.”

  Martha studied Vivian carefully, her eyes narrowing knowingly. “Is that really all you want?”

  Vivian kneeled beside her, voice cracking, placing a hand pleadingly on Martha’s knee. Her eyes shone with tears she stubbornly held back. “It’s all I want,” she whispered desperately. “Serena is the only family I have left. Once I find her, I’ll stop. I swear it. I’ll do anything. Just please, Martha—help me find her.”

  The silence that stretched between them was agonizing. Martha’s eyes were dark, filled with deep sorrow as she finally sighed, nodding slightly. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Downstairs, in the basement.”

  Vivian’s eyes widened immediately, shock registering visibly. She stood instantly, heart pounding so fiercely she thought it might burst. Without another word, she rushed toward the basement door located clearly near the kitchen, wrenching it open without hesitation.

  Noah’s voice was desperate behind her, laced thickly with fear—because he already knew what she still refused to acknowledge. “Viv, wait!”

  But she was already yelling frantically, her voice echoing painfully through the dark stairwell, “Serena! Serena, I’m here!”

  The stairs were uneven beneath her feet, creaking ominously under her weight, but Vivian flew down them heedlessly. At the bottom, her fingers fumbled for the string attached to a solitary lightbulb. She tugged at it desperately, flooding the basement with a weak, flickering glow.

  Her breath caught sharply. The basement was empty, eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the dull electric humming. Vivian’s panicked gaze swept the room swiftly, zeroing in on the source of the sound: an old freezer standing silently in the back corner.

  “No,” she breathed, her voice shaking. “No, no, no—”

  But her feet moved forward mechanically, carrying her step by step, as if trapped within the grip of a waking nightmare. Her trembling hands reached out, fingers icy and numb as she grasped the edge of the freezer lid, lifting it slowly, inexorably.

  A large black trash bag lay inside, ominous and still, filled with something—someone. Vivian’s breath came shallowly, eyes wide with horror as she reached into the frigid fog, carefully pulling open the bag’s top.

  At the base of the stairs, Noah watched her helplessly, a quiet plea slipping from his lips, voice strained with sorrow and fear. “Viv, don’t—”

  But it was already too late. Vivian’s eyes widened in unbearable grief and shock as she revealed the still, frozen face inside. A face she could never, would never forget.

  Serena.