The Cost of Inheritance and the Truth Behind a Family Legacy
Mark was continuing it.
And I was trapped in the middle of it.
I looked at my phone on the bedside table.
The battery was down to twelve percent.
I picked it up and checked the signal.
Two bars.
Suddenly, the screen lit up.
It was an unknown number.
I hesitated, my finger hovering over the screen.
I pressed answer.
“Alana,” a voice whispered.
It was Yasmin.
She sounded frantic, her breathing shallow and fast.
“Yasmin?” I said.
“Listen to me,” she said. “I don’t have much time.”
“Mark knows.”
My heart stopped.
“What does he know?” I asked.
“He knows I took the files,” she said.
“He found the empty safe in his office.”
“He’s looking for me.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I’m at the diner,” she said. “But I can’t stay here.”
“I saw a car drive by twice.”
“It was one of Mark’s men.”
“Did Ana reach you?” I asked.
“No,” Yasmin said. “She’s not here yet.”
“You have to tell her to hurry.”
“If they find me first…”
She choked back a sob.
“They won’t just lock me up, Alana.”