Harper sat across from Eli—Ian—at a quiet café tucked into a side street near her office. He'd chosen it, said he liked places that felt "undiscovered." The tea he ordered for her was the exact kind she usually bought at home.
"You remembered," she said, forcing a smile.
"Of course," he replied. "You mentioned it once. I listen."
Harper stirred her tea slowly. It was hard to put her finger on it, but something about Ian—Eli—still made her uneasy. Maybe it was how quickly he had memorized her preferences. Or the way he kept steering the conversation toward her personal life, her routines, her childhood. He asked about her favorite routes home, her go-to comfort meals, what time she usually left the office.
It could be innocent. Or it could be something else.
"Can I ask you something?" Harper said cautiously.
"Anything."
"Did we ever meet before other than at the office?"
Ian's smile didn't waver. "Maybe in another life."
She chuckled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Back home, Sofia watched Harper come in with a takeaway bag and a faraway look in her eyes. She had that post-date glow—only dimmer, more confused.
Naomi arrived soon after, slipping in through the side gate like they'd planned.
"She saw him again?" Naomi asked under her breath.
"Yeah. She doesn't know it's him yet. She just thinks he's some guy she met online."
Naomi sat on the bed, looking tense. "We have to do something, Sof. This is spiraling."
"I know," Sofia said, pacing. "But what? If I go to Harper or my dad, Ian will release everything. The texts. The photos. The recordings."
Naomi's jaw clenched. "Then we go around him."
Sofia looked up. "What?"
"We dig into him. Find out who he really is. Get proof. Leverage. Anything. If we expose him first, he loses power."
Sofia blinked. "You want to trap him."
Naomi nodded. "Before he traps someone else. Especially her."
Meanwhile, Ian's next message came through as Harper was brushing her teeth.
Ian:
I asked for her journal didn't I ? You forgot. I'd love to know what she writes about.
Sofia stared at the screen in horror.
Sofia:
No. I'm not doing that.
Ian:
And you think you can do that?
Sofia:
You're sick. You said it was just the scarf. Then earrings. A key. Now this?
Ian:
You started this. You think you can set fires and then walk away when it gets too hot?
Sofia:
I'm not stealing anything else. I mean it.
Ian:
Then maybe I send a little preview to your dad. Or Harper. Your choice.
Sofia's hand trembled. She turned the phone face down, heart racing.
Later that night, Harper stood in front of her mirror brushing her hair. Something felt off. It wasn't the meeting itself—it was him. Eli had a way of smiling that never reached his eyes. A way of knowing things she hadn't told him.
And the way Sofia had been acting lately. Quiet. Jumping at shadows. Avoiding eye contact. Refusing to eat with them.
Harper sat on the edge of her bed, thinking.
She hadn't said anything yet—not to Jacob, not even to Sofia—but she had a bad feeling.
A very bad feeling.
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