“Don’t do it, Arthur,” Olivia said, rising from the sofa.

Her voice was quiet, but it carried a strange weight that made Arthur pause.

“Olivia,” Margaret said, her eyes narrowing. “Get in the car. We will handle your breach of contract later.”

“There is no contract, Margaret,” Olivia said.

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small digital audio recorder.

“I have everything,” Olivia said, her hand trembling but her gaze steady. “Every meeting, every threat you made to keep me quiet, and the admission that you altered the clinic’s database.”

Margaret’s composure cracked, a tight line forming around her mouth.

“You are nothing but a surrogate we hired,” Margaret hissed. “You have no standing.”

“I am a co-conspirator,” Olivia said, looking directly at Arthur. “And I have already confessed to the Denver Police Department.”

The sound of tires crunching on gravel echoed from the driveway.

Headlights flooded the cabin, casting sharp, blue and red flashes across the ceiling.

Sirens echoed through the trees, loud and metallic.

Two police cruisers slid to a stop behind Margaret’s luxury sedan.