When nothing goes right, turn left

Threads That Were Never Meant to Be Pulled

"Start from the beginning," Veronica murmured, scanning the records spread across the table.

Bella leaned over, tracing the web of connections.

"Hilary was signed onto the research facility," she said. "But so were others."

Clark nodded, clicking through old files. "Executives, financial backers—people who had enough power to make this disappear."

Then—a name appeared.

Veronica's pulse spiked.

Not just Hilary.

William's father.

Bella exhaled. "That confirms it. He wasn't just involved—he was one of the architects."

Veronica swallowed, tension tightening in her ribs.

Then—Alex pulled up another file.

"This wasn't a single facility," he murmured. "There were others."

Veronica stared. Multiple locations. Multiple projects. Multiple buried secrets.

She swallowed hard.

Hilary hadn't been protecting herself.

She'd been protecting an entire system.

And now?

Veronica was going to burn it down.

Veronica scanned the files, breath tight, forcing herself to read every detail.

The guardianship transfer—her mother's name, signed over in ink that had settled years ago.

But it wasn't just Hilary's name.

There was another.

R.T. Caldwell.

Veronica swallowed hard. "Who is R.T.?"

Clark clicked through more records. "They weren't just an administrator. They were an enforcer."

Bella frowned. "Meaning?"

Clark exhaled. "Meaning this wasn't just legal guardianship—it was ownership. Whoever controlled Hilary controlled what she knew."

Veronica's pulse spiked.

"She wasn't just transferred," she whispered. "She was silenced."

Alex leaned closer, studying the old stamps, the approvals.

"R.T. was involved in multiple facility transfers," he muttered. "And every person listed under them was wiped from public record."

Veronica barely breathed.

"R.T. erased them."

And suddenly—she knew exactly why her mother had kept her in the dark all these years.

Because if she had known sooner—she would have disappeared.

The road to R.T.

The four of them sat in silence as the road stretched before them, cutting through miles of landscape that felt too still, too heavy.

Vee leaned against the window, watching the city fade behind them, replaced by open land and ruins of abandoned sites—places that had been forgotten, just like the truth they were chasing.

Clark drove, steady, focused, while Bella scrolled through the last set of documents they had managed to recover.

And beside Vee—Alex exhaled sharply.

"There's something I need to say before we do this."

Vee turned, eyes meeting his.

The air shifted, the weight of it thick, unspoken.

"I love you."

Bella glanced up briefly, but didn't speak.

Clark's grip tightened on the wheel.

Vee stilled.

She hadn't expected it—not now, not after everything. But before she could even process the words, another voice cut through the quiet.

"So do I."

Vee's pulse spiked.

William.

Sitting stiff in the backseat, watching her carefully.

Her chest tightened.

She didn't answer.

Couldn't.

Because what could she possibly say, knowing what they were driving toward?

Knowing that when this was over, she wouldn't be the same person anymore?

The silence settled between them, thick with everything left unsaid.

Then—the city disappeared entirely, replaced by the looming shadow of the old facility.

And suddenly, the moment was gone.

Because now?

They were facing the end.