Chapter 25 - The Whisper in the Dark
The diesel engine roared to life with a deafening, smoke-belching bellow. Evelyn slammed the throttle forward. The ancient barge groaned, severed its rusted mooring lines against the dock with a screech of shearing iron, and lurched out into the churning, black current of the river, leaving Patricia screaming helplessly on the snow-covered pier as sirens began to wail in the distance.
Evelyn dragged Celeste inside the cabin. “Celeste! Stay with me! Look at me!”
Celeste was gasping, her lips turning blue, but her eyes were wide, lucid, and terrified. “I’m sorry... Evie... I’m so sorry...”
“Save your breath! We’re five minutes from the ferry terminal. Julian’s live feed went through—there are twenty police cruisers waiting on the other side!” Evelyn pressed her wool scarf against Celeste’s bleeding shoulder, her hands slick with her sister’s blood.
Celeste reached into the torn lining of her coat with her uninjured hand. Her fingers were trembling so violently she could barely open her fist. Inside was a tiny, rusted brass key and a micro-cassette audio tape marked with the initials: *M.S. & T.V. — 1993.*
“What is this?” Evelyn demanded, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Marcus... didn't die of digitalis,” Celeste whispered, her voice failing as her eyelids fluttered. “The tape... it wasn't about the company, Evelyn. Mother didn't loosen the railing at the cathedral because of the money...”
Celeste grabbed Evelyn’s lapel with her dying strength, her eyes locking onto Evelyn’s with an expression of pure, unadulterated horror.
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“The girl who died on that staircase wasn’t supposed to be you,” Celeste choked out, blood bubbling at the corner of her lips. “Mother thought you were me. The hit was meant for *me*, Evelyn... because I found out... who your real mother is.”
Before Evelyn could speak, the barge slammed into the concrete pilings of the public ferry terminal. Floodlights blinded the cabin. Shouting voices echoed through megaphones, tactical teams swarmed the deck, and outside the window, a lone figure stepped into the glare of the searchlights—a woman with Evelyn’s exact gray eyes, holding a badge from the Department of Justice, looking down into the vessel with an expression that froze the blood in Evelyn’s veins.
