Rest, honey.
His voice was soft.
Too soft.
Tomorrow it will all end.
I didn’t know that phrase would be the last lie I would hear from him.
Because while he thought I was unconscious, my phone was recording.
I waited until it came out.
Then I opened my eyes.
My hands were shaking.
Not out of fear.
For rage.
I called the only number that could save us.
My father.
But he didn’t answer.
I tried again.
Nothing.
I remembered the conversation.
“They’re heading to the mountains next week.”
They couldn’t have arrived yet.
But someone could help me.
Someone Flynn would never suspect.
The captain of the ship.
At 23:10, I left the room.
Not to the deck.
Not to the trap.
Towards the yacht’s communications center.
The ship belonged to my family.
And although Flynn thought he was in control, he had forgotten a detail:
All emergency systems were registered under the
