Page 89 of Web of Lies
"Everything done?" Mr. Hunt’s familiar voice echoes from the speaker.
"Yes," I say, my free hand pressing against my chest. I straighten my spine, forcing myself to meet Kyle’s gaze.
"Wonderful." Hunt doesn't miss a beat. "Your file went live as planned. It’s already spreading, and I’m already receiving reports and messages."
My pulse spikes and my eyes widen as I reflect on his words. It worked. The file is out. The truth is out.It's really out there.All those hours hunched in front of my screens paid off.
"Thank you," I whisper, barely audible. My thoughts scatter, struggling to catch up with the whirlwind of everything that just happened.
"You’re welcome," Hunt replies. "But the credit goes to you." My throat tightens, and the words catch in it, forming a tight knot. "Now," Hunt continues, "do me a favor and get out of there. Cleanup is on its way. I want the two of you gone before they arrive."
"Yes."
There's a pause on the other end, followed by the faintest shift in his breathing before his voice softens. "Riley. You did well."
"Thank you, sir." My voice cracks, but I don’t care.
"You're welcome. We’ll speak again once the dust has settled."
"Yes."
With that, the call ends, and the soft beep of the dead line rings in my ear. I slowly lower the phone, and my gaze drifts to Kyle, who looks at me with a hint of worry written on his face in deep lines creasing his forehead. He lifts a hand and gently brushes a damp strand of hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.
"Everything worked out," I say, my voice barely louder than a whisper. "That means it's over."
Kyle holds my gaze, the corner of his mouth pulling into the hint of a smile. "Once and for all," Kyle adds, his lips twitching into a hint of a smile. "You're free."
Free.The word hits me like a slap in the face. No more excuses. No more secrets, lies, or hiding. I'm not sure whetherI feel relief or horror. Maybe it's both. But one thing is clear through it all:it's finally over.
Epilogue
Riley
2 months later
My eyes are glued to the TV screen. No matter which channel I switch to, the news anchors are reporting on the massive raid and wave of arrests of city officials tied to the corrupt Department of Public Safety. The screen shows an old mugshot of Jackson, with his name flashing in bold letters. "Jackson Philips: Wanted."
Authorities believe he learned about the leak and fled the country before it was too late. Even his closest relatives believe this is the case. However, a handful of people know the truth: He is already dead, and his body has been disposed of.
I wrap my arms around myself and run my hands over my shoulders in a self-soothing gesture. Although my colleagues at Hunt Corp. helped me erase all evidence of my connection to Jackson, and Hunt himself promised I had nothing to fear, as for the last five years, my alibi is bulletproof. Yet, the pressure in my chest refuses to ease, and anxiety has been my daily companion ever since that day.
"Hey, are you okay?" Kyle's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I turn to face him.
"Yeah, I'm just feeling overwhelmed," I mutter. "They've only scratched the surface."
"It will take time," he says, slipping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his embrace. "We'll be hearing about this for a while."
"I know," I sigh, leaning into him. Then, Kyle grabs the remote and turns off the TV.
"We have to leave soon."
I nod and pick at my cuticles. "I'm nervous about meeting your parents."
A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat. You don't need to be. My dad is stoic. My mom is more of a wildcard, but she means well. Besides, Noah and Evelyn are coming later. We won't be alone with them the whole night."
"That's my one ray of hope." A small smile tugs at my lips.
Forty-five minutes later, Kyle pulls into a gated driveway and follows a narrow path to a modern house. As I glance around the front of the property, I'm taken aback by how modest everything looks. Clean lines and neutral tones, a beautifully kept garden, and nothing flashy. It's just... peaceful. I steal a glance at Kyle, then back at the house, struggling to make sense of it all. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't this. Maybe something darker, colder, and more chaotic. Something that mirrored Kyle.
