Rose's POV
The café was cat-themed and filled to the brim with giggling enthusiasts.
My assigned guards hated it, always choosing to wait outside but remaining close enough to rush in if anything went down.
It was the perfect place to meet Stephen, the private investigator.
Stephen looked disturbed as he browsed through the contents of the flash drive on his laptop.
"She confessed she was the one who sent it?" He asked me, looking up from his computer after fifteen minutes of silence.
"Not in those words, but she alluded to the fact she was behind me getting it."
"That makes sense because she definitely didn't send it—I did."
My brows furrowed in confusion, which I quickly masked with a smile when our waiter placed our orders on the table.
"Explain this to me like I'm a five-year-old."
"I sent one of my men to deliver it to you, with a lot more information than is in here. Katherine must have intercepted it and changed the contents of the flash drive."
She must have assumed I would be so busy planning my escape that I wouldn’t risk confronting them or going back to Stephen for answers.
I had to hand it to her—she was a good judge of character because I would have done just that if she hadn't confronted me in the dressing room.
"You know what that means? Not only do I have a rat in my ranks, but Katherine has more influence in the underworld than we assumed, and we have to be more careful."
I nodded, sipping my coffee to calm my nerves at the new information.
"So, what was removed from the flash drive?"
Stephen shifted nervously, typing away at his computer to avoid meeting my eyes.
"Nathan has been having an affair with Katherine for the last two years or so."
My hands clenched around my cup, and I took a long sip to stop the tears that threatened to make an appearance.
"I know. Anything else?"
"The autopsy report I got had the name of the doctor who performed it and the address of the morgue—hers doesn’t."
Hope swelled in my heart. "So I can see my sister’s body?"
If he pitied me, he hid it well, which I was thankful for. "If you really want to."
"Let's go now," I demanded, rising to my feet.
"What about your guards?" he reminded me, already packing away his things.
They were seated at one of the tables outside and would be there until I was ready to leave, so we snuck out through the back door, hopped into Stephen’s car, and sped away.
Eight months had felt like an eternity, not knowing what had happened to Bella.
Sometimes I hoped she was still alive somewhere out there. Other times I knew better and wished for a body to put an end to the grieving.
Standing there as the morgue attendant opened the freezer and slid the tray out, I found myself wishing I could go back to those days of hoping—not the harsh confirmation that was the corpse lying on the table.
Her cheek was cold when I stroked it. I remembered how warm it used to be when I would stroke them to comfort her.
The tears I had been holding back came flooding out.
Distantly, I heard the morgue attendant walk out to give me some space, leaving me and Stephen alone with Bella.
Stephen gave me his condolences, and I laughed at how sad it was that this strange man was being kinder to me about my sister’s passing than my own husband.
"I failed her," I whispered as I stroked her hair, brittle and dry without her rigid hair care routine.
"There was nothing you could have done. And now, you are doing all that you can."
"You’re right. I'll do everything I can to make them pay," I swore, my hands trembling when I thought of Katherine and especially Nathan.
"But first, I want her buried."
"Coming here is already a huge risk. There’s no way you could bury her without them knowing you've found her body."
He was right. No matter how much it hurt, I had to leave her body lying on the cold slab until I could give her justice.
"I'll be back," I promised, brushing her hair out of her face.
My hand stilled when a black shape on the left side of her neck caught my eye.
Carefully, I turned her head to the side until I could see it more clearly and frowned in confusion.
It was a tattoo of a barcode that I was certain had not been there when she first went missing.
"What is this?" I asked, waving Stephen over to take a look at it.
He crouched down and studied it for a few seconds then stepped away from Bella's corpse with a grim expression.
"Stephen. What is it?" I asked again, growing fearful after his bizarre reaction.
"I thought it was just a rumor."
"What rumor?" I demanded impatiently.
"That Nathan Foster’s dabbling in a new kind of business."
He glanced at Bella pointedly and it suddenly clicked.
Human trafficking.
Those two words were the nail in the coffin, burying whatever love still remained in me for Nathan.
"So Bella is one of—"
"Hundreds, maybe thousands of men, women, and children taken and sold."
My hand fell to my belly, and I stumbled away from the body, fearing I would empty my coffee all over her.
"I have to stop this," Stephen whispered to himself.
I imagined hundreds of other sisters, mothers and fathers out there. Others like me who prayed for the return of a loved one but, unlike me, may never get their closure.
All because of the man I made a life with.
“I'll help you,” I declared with a clench of my fist.
“It'll be risky, Rose. I don't think…”
“She's in here, Mr. Foster.” The attendant's approaching voice trickled in through the gap in the door.
“Nathan.” I whispered, the blood freezing in my veins.
