message Nick had written.
Within minutes, screenshots started arriving.
There were photographs of my clothes inside Tara’s apartment.
Copies of the Marketplace listings.
Payment confirmations.
And a conversation that changed everything.
Nick had written:
Sell the expensive things first.
Then:
She won’t be using most of that stuff much longer.
And finally:
Don’t contact Anna. I’ll deal with her.
Tara had asked why he needed his share so urgently.
Nick’s answer was short.
Card payment. Need it by Monday.
I stared at those words.
A card payment?
What card payment?
