Page 70 of All The Pretty Little Lies

Finally, Oscar's voice fills the car through the phone's speaker. “Are you on your way back? You both good?”

"We're fine," I rush to assure him, glancing at Zaire. "But Oz, we found something.”

"They created viable fucking embryos from Vesper's eggs."

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening. When Oscar finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. "How many?"

"Two," Zaire replies, his tone grim. "One male, one female. But that's not all."

I watch as Zaire's expression darkens, his brow furrowing as he continues. "They're gone, Oz. The embryos. They were supposed to be in cryo-storage at the clinic, but when we checked, the slots were empty."

Oscar's sharp intake of breath crackles through the speaker. "What do you mean, gone? How is that possible?"

"We don't know," I chime in, leaning closer to the phone. "But we did get a name. Someone accessed the file three days ago. A Dr. Ivanov."

The name hangs in the air between us, heavy with implications. Zaire's eyes meet mine for a brief moment, a silent understanding passing between us.

"Oz," Zaire says, his voice taking on a determined edge, "we may need to stay longer than we planned. We need to find this doctor and figure out what happened to those embryos."

The silence that follows is thick with tension. I can almost hear the gears turning in Oscar's head, weighing the risks against the potential rewards.

"Agreed," Oscar finally says, his voice firm. "We can't leave without answers. But be careful. If someone moved those embryos, they might be expecting company."

Zaire nods, even though Oscar can't see him. "We'll be careful. We'll start digging into this Dr. Ivanov first thing in the morning."

"Good," Oscar replies. "I'll work my contacts, see if I can find any information on our end. And guys, watch your backs. This just got a lot more complicated."

As we end the call, the weight of our discovery settles over us like a heavy blanket. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine and the soft whoosh of passing vehicles are the only sounds that break the tense silence.

I lean back in my seat, my mind racing with possibilities. Who is Dr. Ivanov? Where are the embryos now? And most importantly, what does this mean for Vesper?

VESPER

I blink awake,disoriented and groggy, my heart sinking as I realize I'm alone in my bed. The sunlight streaming through the curtains tells me it's well into the morning. Memories of last night's revelations flood back, and I bolt upright, suddenly wide awake.

Hastily, I throw on a pair of worn jeans and a soft, oversized sweater, not bothering with makeup or even running a brush through my tangled blonde waves. My bare feet pad silently across the hardwood floors as I make my way to Zaire's room, hope and dread warring in my chest.

The door creaks open to reveal an empty, perfectly made bed. My stomach clenches. Where are they? Why aren't they back yet?

Trying to quell the rising panic, I move to Oscar's door, my knuckles rapping against the solid wood before I push it open.

"Oz?" I call out, my voice rough from lack of sleep.

Oscar doesn't answer. My heart races as I step fully into his room, the plush carpet soft beneath my bare feet. The sound of running water grows louder, punctuated by occasional splashes. I approach the bathroom door, my hand hovering uncertainly before I rap my knuckles against the sleek wood.

"Oscar?" I call again, louder this time.

His voice, muffled by the shower's spray, finally responds. "Come in, Vesper."

I hesitate for a moment, then turn the handle. A wave of warm, humid air washes over me as I enter. The bathroom is filled with steam, the mirror is completely fogged over. The shower enclosure is frosted glass, but I can make out Oscar's silhouette behind it.

Oscar's silhouette shifts, and the glass door slides open, revealing his muscular form glistening with water droplets. His piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, a mix of concern and something darker swirling in their depths.

My breath catches in my throat as Oscar steps out of the shower, water cascading down his chiseled body. He doesn't reach for a towel, instead holding my gaze with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

"Join me," he says, his voice low and husky. It's not quite a question, but not quite a command either.

I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding. Oscar could drag me in there if he wanted to, but instead, I watch him as he patiently awaits my answer. Without saying a word, I peel off my clothes, letting them fall to the tile floor. My answer is unspokenbut clear. Oscar's eyes darken as they roam over my exposed skin. He extends his hand, and I take it, allowing him to guide me into the shower.

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