Chapter 6
Night settled softly over Clarks Summit.
The shop had been steady all day. Not chaotic. Not dramatic. Just clients, ink, small talk, and the hum of machines. The kind of normal she used to pray for.
But normal never lasted long.
Rebecca stood in her kitchen now, sleeves pushed up, long dark waves falling over one shoulder, staring at the stack of documents spread across her marble island.
Signed.
Sealed.
Transferred.
Her shop.
Officially in her name.
The real estate agent had been polite but useless.
“Ma’am, the buyer is registered under an LLC. That’s all the information I’m authorized to provide.”
An LLC.
A ghost.
She ran her fingers over the paper again. The ink was real. The transfer was real. The ownership was real.
But the person behind it?
Invisible.
Who spends that kind of money and hides?
Her jaw tightened.
She didn’t like favors.
She didn’t like help.
And she definitely didn’t like feeling handled.
With a quiet exhale, she stacked the papers neatly and slid them into a drawer.
Right next to the lilies she hadn’t asked for.
Right next to the unanswered questions.
Right next to Izzy.
She shut the drawer.
Enough.
Tonight wasn’t about him.
Or the shop.
Or whatever invisible hand thought it could rearrange her life.
Tonight was about Inez.
A small smile softened her expression as she grabbed a dish towel and wiped down the counter one last time. The house already sparkled. She’d cleaned like she was preparing for inspection — floors shining, guest room made with fresh white sheets, candles lined up on the dresser.
Wine chilling in the fridge.
Hookah set up on the back patio like old times.
Her and Inez.
Eight years old in the projects.
Building 13 and Building 3.
Windows facing each other like destiny decided they’d never be far.
Inez’s mom had moved in when Becca was just a little girl. From that moment on, they were inseparable.
Same schools.
Same bus routes.
Same trouble.
Rebecca smiled at the memory.
Sneaking out at fifteen.
Lying for each other without hesitation.
Covering tracks like professionals.
No one had their backs the way they had each other’s.
Becca, the baby of five — three brothers and one sister who practically helped raise her. Her mother adored her, maybe spoiled her a little. But Inez? Inez understood her.
Understood what it meant to grow up fast.
After high school, life did what life does.
Different states.
Different campuses.
Different dreams.
Inez earning her master’s in children services — always the nurturing one.
Rebecca chasing her MFA, chasing art, chasing something bigger than the buildings she grew up in.
They never fully lost each other.
But they drifted.
And when Rebecca moved to Pennsylvania and poured everything into building her name, her shop, her reputation…
She poured less into everything else.
The house suddenly felt quiet again.
Too quiet.
She grabbed her wine glass and stepped onto the patio, the cool Pennsylvania air brushing against her skin. The mountains in the distance were dark silhouettes under the moonlight.
For a second — just a second — she felt it.
That subtle awareness.
Like eyes.
Watching.
She glanced toward the tree line beyond her backyard.
Nothing there.
Just wind moving branches.
She shook it off.
You’re tired. That’s all.
Tomorrow Inez would be here.
Laughter would fill this house.
Stories. Music. Hookah smoke curling into the night.
For the first time in weeks, Rebecca allowed herself to feel something close to peace.
She lifted her glass slightly.
“To old friends,” she whispered to the empty air.
But somewhere, not too far away…
Someone was already making sure that peace lasted exactly as long as he allowed it to.
Night settled in fully by the time headlights washed across Rebecca’s driveway.
Becca was already at the door before the engine even cut off.
The driver’s door opened and Inez stepped out — same height as Becca, standing strong at 5’10, long straight brown hair falling down her back, curvy body hugged by fitted jeans and a cream sweater, brown eyes scanning the property before landing on her best friend.
For a split second they just stared.
Eight years.
Then they ran straight into each other’s arms.
“Oh my God, girl!” Inez squeezed her tight. “It’s so good to see you. I haven’t seen you in so long! Look at this beautiful home!”
Becca laughed into her shoulder, holding her just as tight. “I missed you so much. I’m so excited for this weekend.”
“I’m ready. Lay it on me, girl,” Inez grinned.
They stepped inside, Inez slowly turning in a circle in the foyer, taking it all in — high ceilings, warm lighting, polished floors, quiet elegance.
“Wow, Becca… this place is beautiful.”
“Thanks, girl,” Becca said softly. “No one really comes over much. I’m working so much I’m barely here. It’s nice to have someone I trust in my life here.”
That last part lingered.
They made their way into the living room, Inez’s bags temporarily forgotten in the foyer.
Fire crackled in the fireplace. The house felt alive now.
“I poured you a drink,” Becca said, handing her a glass. “Did you eat? How was the drive?”
“Girl, it was long,” Inez groaned dramatically, kicking her boots off. “But definitely worth it. I needed a getaway — from work, from the city, from life. I can’t believe it’s been eight years since I’ve seen you! You look good. Shitty drama aside.”
Becca smiled at that. She knew what she meant.
Wine poured. Hookah set. The two of them curled up near the fire like no time had passed at all.
Inez talked first — promotions at work, long hours in children services, cases that kept her up at night. Her love life? Nonexistent.
“All I do is work,” she shrugged. “Work-life balance is on life support.”
They laughed.
They reminisced about sneaking out as teens. Covering for each other. Lying like professionals.
For a moment, they were eighteen again.
But Inez’s expression slowly shifted.
She studied Becca.
“Okay,” she said, leaning back into the couch. “Enough about me. What’s really going on with you?”
The fire cracked louder in the silence that followed.
Becca took a slow pull from her wine glass before answering.
“After four years with Izzy… I knew something was off. I just couldn’t place it. I was traveling, doing fundraisers, building the shop. He started sitting on the sidelines.”
Her voice stayed calm. Too calm.
“One night I followed him.”
Inez sat up straighter.
“To a bar in Scranton. I stayed in my car. Texted him asking where he was. He said he was at a friend’s house.”
Becca let out a dry laugh.
“I watched him walk out forty-five minutes later.”
She swallowed.
“With a woman.”
“Red hair. Long. Curly. Dressed like money.”
Inez’s hand slowly covered her mouth.
“They were holding hands,” Becca continued. “Got into his Audi. I followed them to this expensive hotel in one of the towns nearby.”
Silence.
“I took pictures. Videos. The next day I confronted him.”
“And?” Inez asked, already knowing.
“He said she was a manager. Some modeling contract opportunity.”
Inez dropped her hand. “Becca…”
“I didn’t believe him,” she said firmly. “Especially with my past. I knew better.”
“So, I broke up with him. Packed his stuff. Gave it back.”
“That should’ve been the end.”
Inez nodded slowly.
“But it wasn’t.”
The warmth in the room shifted.
“That’s when the clients started disappearing,” Becca said quietly. “Rumors started. That I was on drugs. That I was sleeping with clients. That I slept my way up in the industry.”
Inez’s jaw clenched.
“He told people I used to cam. That I sold nudes. Feet pics. Every personal thing I trusted him with — twisted.”
“Becca…” Inez’s voice cracked.
“He showed up at my shop,” she added. “With her.”
“The redhead?”
“Yeah. Her name’s Jenna.”
The fire popped sharply.
“And you let that slide?” Inez snapped suddenly, sitting forward. “Girl, you didn’t punch her in the mouth? Him too?!”
Becca burst out laughing — real, loud.
“No. The old me would’ve.”
Her smile softened.
“But I have an image to uphold now. I can’t just go all hood on people.”
They both laughed, but there was truth in it.
The old Rebecca would’ve burned it all down.
This Rebecca had too much to lose.
She had worked too hard to earn her title. Her name. Her reputation.
Even if a part of her wanted to fight.
Even if a part of her still could.
The laughter in the living room softened as wind began to howl against the windows.
Snow came down thick now — heavy, aggressive. A whiteout rolling into town faster than forecasted.
Becca glanced toward the glass doors. “Thank God, you made it before this crazy-ass storm hit.”
Inez laughed, following her into the kitchen. “Girl please. A little snow doesn’t scare me.”
Becca lit the charcoal for the hookah, the small flame glowing against her focused expression. That’s when Inez noticed them.
The lilies.
Still fresh. Still perfect.
She walked over slowly, fingers brushing the soft white petals. She leaned in, inhaled.
“You kept them?”
Becca didn’t look up. “Yeah.”
Inez turned. “Becca… this is weird. A stranger sending you your favorite flower? In your favorite color? That’s not random.”
Becca finally met her eyes.
“I know it’s weird,” she admitted. “At one point I thought it was Izzy. But he’s way too dumb to know details like that. Subtlety was never his thing.”
Inez sat back against the counter, thinking.
“What about the guy who helped you home that night?” she asked carefully. “The night your so-called friends disappeared?”
Becca froze.
For the first time, she really let herself think about it.
Could it have been him?
The stranger.
The one she couldn’t remember.
Her stomach tightened. “I don’t even remember his face.”
Inez’s expression shifted. Softer now. Concerned.
“You don’t black out like that, Becca. The only other time I’ve seen you that gone…” She hesitated.
The Bronx.
The assault.
The memory passed between them silently.