“I just need to make sure the timing looks right,” Marcus muttered.

“The authorities won’t question it,” Evelyn said. “A tragic accident is easy to fake.”

My heart stopped.

A tragic accident.

They were talking about me.

“Just keep her quiet for now,” Marcus said.

The footsteps moved closer to the cellar door.

I quickly closed my eyes, feigning sleep as the heavy iron latch clicked.

The door creaked open, throwing a long shadow across the concrete floor.

I felt someone standing over me, their breath warm and smelling of stale cigarettes.

“She’s still out,” Marcus said.

“Good,” Evelyn replied from the doorway. “Get the papers ready.”

The door closed again, and the lock clicked into place.

I opened my eyes, staring at the cracked ceiling.

My mind raced as I tried to put the pieces together.

They wanted to kill me, but it wasn’t just about revenge.

There was a payout.

A policy.

They had set up some kind of financial trap, and my death was the key to it.

I rubbed my bound wrists against the rough concrete, trying to find a sharp edge.