Kaiden’s eyes flicked to the screen, but his face didn’t change. 

I kept going, fueled by the thread of doubt that had now fully unraveled into something solid. 

“She’s posted plenty of articles, Kaiden. Dozens. And yes–they always about me. Always centered around my drama. The Lucky Introvert’s drama. But this one?” I shook my phone slightly. “It’s not just about me. It drags Dan’s mayoral position through the mud–heavily. It’s personal. Too political. It reads like someone wanted to destroy him. Like someone who had serious beef with him. Also, she never referred to me as ‘Lucy H. Sterwalt.‘ But this guy did. I am gut sure that this isn’t Barbara’s doing.” 

I stepped toward Barbara’s slumped, bleeding form, ignoring the sting in my throat as I crouched beside her. Her body jerked slightly from pain, but she didn’t protest as I reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out her phone. 

The password was surprisingly the same. 

I unlocked the screen and quickly navigated to Google Maps, opening the location history. After a few taps, I turned the phone around and showed it to Kaiden. 

“See?” I said, holding it closer so he could have a clear look. “She was out of West Sterlingo the entire time after she got bailed from prison, she hasn’t returned–not even once. Her phone never pinged in the city. Not until today, when you brought her back.” 

Kaiden stared at the screen for a few long seconds. His eyes moved over the map, the lines, the time stamps. But whatever I hoped to see in his expression–logic, realisation, and maybe even a little regret–never came. 

“That still proves nothing,” he said finally, his voice sharp and unmoved. “She could’ve tampered with the data.” 

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could get a word out, Mom’s voice sliced through the air like a blade. 

“This is all your fault, Lucy,” she snapped, venom dripping from every word. “If you hadn’t forgiven her. If you hadn’t taken back the complaint–she would’ve stayed in jail and none of this would’ve happened.” 

I turned toward her, my patience unraveling. 

“I haven’t forgiven her yet.” I muttered looking at Barbara. “And… how many times do I have to say it, Mom?” I said, louder now as I looked at my mom. “This article was not written by Barbara.” 

“Then who wrote it?” she shot back, raising a brow, lips curled in challenge. “If not her, then who?” 

Kaiden spoke up again before I could answer. 

“I still think it’s her,” he said, his voice flat but resolute. “However…” His gaze flicked toward me. “I already told my guys to trace the article. They’re tracking the source–specifically the IP address–sol can get real proof and throw her back in jail for good.” He glanced down at his watch. “They’re supposed to report back by midnight. It’s almost time. Just six more minutes.” 

I nodded slowly. “Okay. Let’s wait six more minutes.” I crossed my arms, standing straighter. “And see who the real culprit is.” 

“Fine,” Mom muttered, mirroring my stance as she crossed her arms too. “Let’s do it.” 

So we waited. 

All three of us. 

1/3 

 

Sorry, including Barbara, all four of us. 

1988 

Six Minutes Later… 

Kaiden’s phone rang. 

Punctually at midnight. 

The sound sliced through the heavy silence like a knife. He pulled it from his pocket, tapped the green icon, and placed it on speaker for all of us to hear. 

“Did you get the information I asked for?” he asked, skipping any form of greeting. His tone was curt, focused, ready. 

“Yes,” came the voice on the other end–a man’s voice, low, but laced with hesitation. 

“Tell me the name,” Kaiden demanded, straight to the point. 

“Uh… mmm, how… how about I recheck everything and get back to you within an hour?” the voice replied, stammering like he was juggling fire with bare hands. 

Kaiden’s brows furrowed. “Why?” he asked sharply. “What’s wrong?” 

There was silence on the other end of the line.