Chapter 4

Lily stared out the window of the small cabin, her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the notebook. The weight of her father's words still lingered in her mind, each sentence carving deeper questions into her thoughts. Trust no one. They are everywhere. Elias, if something happens to me, find her.

Hazel Monroe.

The name felt foreign on her tongue, like a puzzle piece that refused to fit. Who was she? Why had her father mentioned her in his notes? And most importantly—was she still alive?

Behind her, Noah leaned against the wooden table, arms crossed, watching her carefully. "You look like you're about to do something reckless."

Lily turned her head slightly. "I was thinking."

"Same thing."

She shot him a glare, but he didn't look fazed. If anything, he looked bored—like he had already expected her to argue.

"We need to find Hazel Monroe," she said, gripping the notebook tighter. "She could have answers."

Noah sighed, pushing off the table. "And what if she's dead?"

Lily hesitated. It wasn't an impossible thought. If Hazel had known something important, she could have been silenced years ago. But she refused to accept that without proof.

"Then we find out what happened to her," she said firmly.

Noah let out a low chuckle. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

Lily turned fully to face him. "No, I don't."

Something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable. Then, with a shake of his head, he grabbed his jacket. "Fine. Let's go."

She blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You're right," he admitted, though he looked mildly annoyed about it. "Hazel Monroe is our only lead. Sitting here isn't going to give us answers."

Lily hadn't expected him to agree so easily, but she wasn't about to question it. Without another word, she grabbed her own coat and followed him outside.

The drive into town was silent, save for the hum of the engine. Lily kept her gaze on the window, watching the trees blur past as they neared civilization.

"You're sure she lived here?" Noah asked, glancing at her.

"She used to," Lily answered. "Years ago. I don't know if she still does."

Noah didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue.

They arrived in a small, quiet neighborhood—a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside Lily's mind. The houses were modest, the streets empty except for a few cars parked along the curbs.

Lily stepped out of the car, her boots crunching against the pavement. Her eyes scanned the rows of houses before finally settling on one in particular—a white, two-story home with an overgrown garden and a porch that looked like it hadn't been used in years.

"This is it," she murmured.

Noah came up beside her. "Are you sure?"

Lily swallowed. "I think so."

They approached the front door, and she hesitated for only a moment before knocking.

Silence.

She exchanged a glance with Noah before knocking again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

"Maybe no one's home," Noah suggested.

Lily's chest tightened. Or maybe we're too late.

Then—just as she was about to turn away—the sound of movement echoed from inside. A moment later, the door creaked open just an inch, revealing a pair of sharp, wary eyes behind the chain lock.

Lily's breath caught.

An older woman stood there, her face lined with years of experience, her expression cautious. She looked Lily up and down before shifting her gaze to Noah.

"What do you want?" the woman asked, her voice clipped.

Lily straightened. "Are you Hazel Monroe?"

The woman's eyes darkened. "Who's asking?"

Lily hesitated before answering, "Lily Everett."

Something in the woman's face changed. Her fingers tightened around the doorframe, and for a moment, Lily thought she might slam the door shut. But instead, Hazel exhaled sharply and muttered, "Damn it."

She undid the chain lock and swung the door open wider. "Come inside. Quickly."

Lily exchanged a look with Noah before stepping into the house.

The inside of the house was just as neglected as the outside. The air smelled like dust and old paper, and stacks of newspapers and books cluttered the living room. The curtains were drawn, letting in only the faintest slivers of light.

Hazel led them to a small sitting area before settling into a worn-out armchair. She eyed them both carefully before speaking.

"So," she said. "You're his daughter."

Lily's heart pounded. "You knew my father?"

Hazel scoffed. "Knew him? Lily, your father and I were working together before you were even born."

Lily's stomach flipped. "Working together?"

Hazel leaned forward, her gaze sharp. "Your father wasn't the man you thought he was."

Lily stiffened. "I—" She hesitated. "I don't understand."

Hazel studied her for a long moment before sighing. "Of course, you don't. He never told you the truth."

Lily's fingers curled into fists. "Then tell me. What truth?"

Hazel hesitated before finally saying, "Your father was part of something bigger, something dangerous. And if you're here now, asking questions… then I'd wager you're in more danger than you realize."

Lily felt the weight of those words settle deep in her chest. She had come looking for answers, but it felt like she had only uncovered more mysteries.

Noah shifted beside her. "If you know something, now's the time to talk."

Hazel gave him a sharp look before turning back to Lily.

"I'll tell you what I can," she said slowly. "But I need you to understand—knowing the truth won't make you safer. It will make you a target."

Lily didn't even hesitate.

"Then tell me everything."