Page 56 of Seal My Fate

But that’s why we’re doing all of this, I remind myself. So Wren can be safe, and never have to look over her shoulder again.

“I have good news and bad news,” Charlie finally announces, looking up from her screen.

“Bad news first,” I decide.

“This encryption is serious business,” Charlie says, giving an apologetic look. “I can’t break it. At least, not without a few weeks, and a hell of a lot more equipment.”

My heart falls. “We don’t have weeks, and we need to get into the drive!”

“I know, and that’s where the good news comes in. I recognize the setup here,” she explains. “It takes a 14-digit key to unlock the data, but that looks like the only protection on the drive. Find the key, and it’s open sesame.”

“That’s the good news?” I mutter, downcast.

But Saint takes my hand. “No, it is. Remember, Phillip couldn’t keep his passwords straight, so he had them written down. My dad’s the exact way. He’ll never remember a key like that, it’ll be written down somewhere. Somewhere close to him.”

I blink. He’s finally acknowledging out loud that it’s his father running the show with the trial fraud. I search his face, concerned, but see only determination there.

“Then my work here is done.” Charlie snaps her screen closed and stands.

“Thank you, for helping us out,” I tell her gratefully.

She smiles. “I don’t know how much help I’ve really been, but it was worth it for the pancakes.” She pauses. “Do you think the chef would give me the recipe for that syrup?”

“Of course,” Saint speaks up. “I’ll take you to the kitchens on our way out.”

He guides Charlie from the room, leaving me and Wren alone.

“Another obstacle,” Wren sighs, looking downcast. “And now you guys have to take the risk to look for this key, while I sit around here. Useless.”

“You’re not useless!” I protest, frowning. “You’re the reason we’re all here!”

“Exactly.” Wren levels me with a stare. “It’s my fault you’re in danger all the time.”

“No, that’s on Ashford,” I correct her firmly. “They’re the ones trying to cover up their crimes. They’re the ones to blame, for everything!”

“But still, if I hadn’t come back…” she looks down, fidgeting with her sweater. “If I’d just stayed hidden, stayed dead…”

“Wren, no!”

I get up and circle the table to her. “Having you back means everything to me,” I insist, taking her hands tightly. “We’re doing the right thing here. We can’t let them get away with it, what they’ve done to you…”

“But it’s all spiraling,” Wren looks at me, miserable. “First it was just me at risk, now you’re getting shot, and breaking into Ashford, and Saint’s searching for clues from his own father… You were happy before I came back, you were building your life together.”

“And we will again, when this is done,” I promise her. “But we were building it on quicksand, Wren, not knowing what was really going on. Ashford Pharma is corrupt and evil. It’s always better to know the truth.”

“I sometimes wonder if that’s true,” Wren says softly, shadows in her eyes. “If I could go back, and just ignore that original trial data… If I’d closed the spreadsheet and gone for lunch with the rest of the crew, none of this would have happened.” Her voice is wistful, and I can see that she’s grieving for the life she could have had if she hadn’t stumbled over the wrong thing, at the wrong time. “I would have finished up my fellowship, and got a great job; traveled, maybe. Fallen in love. I would have been normal, Tessa,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “It would have saved me so much grief.”

I can’t answer her. It’s true, she’s suffered more than anyone. The attack, the aftermath, running for her life, leaving everyone behind… It makes me want to weep for her—and rip Alexander St. Clair and his cronies apart. They decided their success was worth any cost.

My poor sister is the one who’s paid the price.

But not anymore.

“We’re going to make this right, Wren.” I squeeze her hand, a vow. “I promise you, we’re going to expose everything, and make them pay for what they’ve done.”

She gives a nod, but she doesn’t look convinced.

Saint rejoins us. “I called my father, and wrangled us a dinner invitation for tonight,” he reports. “Since it’s been so long since we all sat down together.”

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