Chapter 3 - MIDNIGHT EXODUS|
The Rosedale townhouse was dark when the black Lincoln pulled into the cobblestone driveway.
Imara stepped out into the biting wind, flanked by two uniformed Toronto police officers and a woman wearing a navy coat holding a legal folder—Roa’s advocate.
"You have fifteen minutes, Mrs. Hail," Officer Davis said gently, holding his flashlight toward the entrance. "We're here to ensure a peaceful retrieval of personal property."
Imara unlocked the heavy oak door. The house smelled of expensive cedar and Beck’s cologne. It was a fortress built on property money, but to Imara, it was a gilded cage.
She moved silently up the carpeted stairs to the nursery. Four-year-old Cassian was fast asleep under his blue blanket, his thumb tucked into his mouth.
"Cass," she whispered, stroking his dark curls softly. "Wake up, baby. We're going on a night adventure."
The boy blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Is Daddy coming?"
"No, sweetheart. Just us," she said, wrapping him in his thick winter coat and lifting him gently against her shoulder. Her jaw throbbed with a sharp, dull ache, but she buried the pain beneath adrenaline.
She handed Cassian to the advocate in the hallway and rushed down to Beck's private study.
The room was locked with a digital keypad. Imara punched in a code Beck thought she had never seen: 09-14-21—the date he had secured his first major offshore holding.
The lock clicked green.
She bypassed the safe containing Beck's watch collection and went straight to the lower architectural drafting cabinet. She pulled out a heavy black leather portfolio stamped with her maiden name: Coulson Design Studio.
Inside lay the original 2021 hand-drawn sketches of Threshold Commons, complete with timestamped Montreal studio review receipts and email threads with her old professor.
Her phone began to buzz furiously on the mahogany desk.
Beckett Hail Calling.
May you like
Imara watched the screen light up. Once. Twice. Three times.
She didn't answer. Instead, she slipped the portfolio under her arm, grabbed her passport drawer, and walked out of the room, leaving the phone ringing into the empty darkness.
