Too Late, Mr. Winters: I'm No Victim

The back of the Lincoln was silent and cold. Rose sat opposite Ellery's wheelchair, which was locked into place where a section of seating had been removed. She stared out the window, ignoring Victoria and Claudine, who were chattering in the seat beside her.

Arla sat in the back of a beat-up Toyota Camry, the Uber driver humming along to the radio. Her phone was connected to a small, discreet earpiece.

"Hey, Auditor," a distorted voice came through. Chloe.

"Hey," Arla said quietly. "I'm heading to the zoo."

"The Winters estate?" Chloe laughed. "Brave. I'm tracking the convoy's GPS. Looks like a presidential motorcade."

Arla watched the black SUVs in the distance. "My fiancé has trust issues."

"Want me to scramble their comms?"

"No. Let them watch."

Inside the limo, Ellery's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. He appeared to be asleep. But he was listening. A high-frequency receiver, disguised as a medical sensor on his wrist, was picking up fragments of cellular traffic. He couldn't hear the words, but he registered the encrypted signal originating from a burner phone on the same route.

His fingers twitched on the armrest of his chair.

He had underestimated her. He'd thought she was just a brilliant accountant he'd picked up, a beautiful anomaly. He never suspected she was a ghost, capable of operating in the shadows he himself inhabited.

He had to revise his entire strategy. The merger with the Fitzgeralds was meant to be a simple, if distasteful, corporate takeover. But Arla... Arla was not a line item on a balance sheet. She was a black swan event.

Silas, sitting in the front passenger seat, glanced in the rearview mirror. He caught the subtle tension in Ellery's jaw.

"Sir?" Silas murmured into his collar mic, a frequency only Ellery's earpiece could receive.

"Dig deeper on Arla," Ellery's voice, clear and cold, came back through the hidden comms. "Not Woods. Fitzgerald. Cross-reference with any sealed juvenile records in her home county. She's not just a black sheep. She's hiding something big."

"I'm trying, sir," Silas's voice was strained. "Her digital footprint is... weirdly clean. Almost too clean."

Ellery's eyes remained closed. "Exactly."

The Winters estate in the Hamptons was a fortress of glass and steel perched on a cliff edge. The waves crashed violently below.

The butler didn't take Arla to the main house. He led her to the greenhouse.

It was humid inside, smelling of damp earth and fertilizer.

Rose Winters was standing by a bush of black roses, holding a pair of sharp shears.

"Your Uber was slow," Rose said without turning.

"It was cheap," Arla replied.

Rose turned. She held out the shears. "Cut the dead ones."

Arla took the tool. She moved to the bush. Snip. Snip. Her movements were precise. She knew anatomy. Plants weren't so different.

"I saw your file," Rose said. "Not the one Victoria sent. The real one."

Arla froze. The shears hovered over a stem. Her heart hammered a warning rhythm.

"The one from the group home. The one that shows four different foster families in five years. The one that ends the day you turned eighteen and vanished."

Arla exhaled. Rose only had the surface layer. She didn't know about The Auditor.

"I was a kid," Arla said. "I survived."

"I don't care about your past," Rose said. She cut a rose head off with a violent snap. "I care about your brain."

She looked at Arla. "Claudine is an idiot. Victoria is a leech. If this marriage proceeds as they've planned it, the Fitzgeralds will bleed us dry. They are parasites."

"Why agree to the marriage then?"

"Ellery needs the merger to stabilize the board. He needs the assets. He doesn't need the family attached to them."

Rose stepped closer. Her eyes were hard. "I want you to sabotage the wedding. But save the merger."

Arla stared at the old woman. "You want me to be the villain?"

"You already are," Rose said. "You hate them. And you're smart."

"What do I get?"

Rose reached into her apron pocket. She pulled out a heavy, brass key.

"Access," Rose said. "Be my 'Honorary Ward.' In this house, under that title, you are untouchable. No one can kick you out. Not even Ellery."

Arla looked at the key. It was a pass to the inner sanctum. A way to get close to Ellery's servers.

"Deal," Arla said. "One condition."

"Name it."

"I want the room next to Ellery's."

Rose smiled. It was a terrifying expression. "Done."

They shook hands.

The greenhouse door opened. Silas walked in, pushing Ellery's wheelchair. He stopped. He saw his grandmother and his boss's fiancée shaking hands over a pile of severed rose heads.

Ellery's head was still tilted, his expression vacant, but a chill that had nothing to do with the damp air went down his spine.

The dining room was dimly lit by candles. The long table was set with crystal that cost more than Arla's entire childhood home.

Victoria and Claudine were already seated, dressed in loud, sequined gowns.

Arla hadn't come down yet.

Rose tapped her glass with a spoon. Ting. Ting.

"Tonight," Rose announced, "I am introducing a new member of the household."

The double doors opened.

Arla walked in.

She was wearing the same jeans and turtleneck from her arrival. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She looked like a stray cat that had wandered into a palace.

The room went silent.

Ellery, seated at the head of the table in his wheelchair, watched her. His fork, held in a hand that was supposed to be weak, gripped so hard his knuckles turned white.

Arla walked to Rose and placed a hand on the old woman's shoulder.

"Arla is now my Honorary Ward," Rose said. "Her voice is my voice."

Victoria dropped her wine glass. Red liquid stained the white tablecloth like blood.

"What?" Claudine shrieked. "She's the help!"

"Here," Rose said coldly, "she is family. You are the guest."

Arla turned her head. She looked at Ellery. She smiled, a small, pitying smile.

"Looks like we'll be spending a lot more time together," she said, her tone syrupy. "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of you."

Ellery's eye twitched.

The staff brought the soup. They served Arla first.

Claudine kicked the table leg. "This is ridiculous."

Arla picked up her soup spoon, held it like a shovel, and began to eat with loud, obnoxious slurps. She ignored the horrified looks from Victoria and Claudine, her eyes fixed on Ellery. She was playing her part to perfection.

Victoria scoffed. "She didn't even finish high school."

"That's what you think," Arla murmured into her spoon, loud enough for only herself to hear.

Dinner ended in tense silence. As everyone stood up, Silas began to wheel Ellery away. Ellery's hand moved, just slightly, and brushed against Arla's chair as he passed. He left a small, folded piece of paper on the seat.

She palmed it without looking. When she read it under the table, it contained two words.

Library. Now.