………….
“Right now?” I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 9:30. Our black car to the airport was due to arrive at 1:00. “Mrs. Delaney, my husband and I are leaving for our honeymoon in a few hours. Can’t this wait until we get back? Or could you just email me a digital form to sign electronically?”
“No. You have to see what’s on my screen in person. It can’t be emailed. And Maya…” She paused. I could hear her breathing slowly. “You have to come alone. Don’t tell your husband where you’re going. Don’t tell him a word about this conversation.”
Blood streamed from my face. The warm, sunny room suddenly felt like an icebox. The smile on my lips died a sudden, violent death. “Excuse me? Why don’t I bring Ryan? This is his marriage certificate, too.”
“For your own safety, Maya. Just tell him you have to run a last-minute errand. Park in the alley behind the municipal building. I’ll wait by the service door.”
Click. She hung up.
I remained frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear, listening to the dead ring. A cold, creeping terror began to make its way down my spine. For your own safety. These were the words of emergency dispatchers, doctors delivering terminal diagnoses. Not county clerks processing marriage certificates.
“Is everything alright, baby?”
Ryan’s voice startled me so much I almost dropped the phone. I turned around. He was looking at me, a pair of sunglasses in his hand, his head tilted with innocent curiosity. His eyes were clear, bright, and full of love. He was perfect. Our romance was perfect. What could possibly exist in a government database that would make an employee fear for my safety in the presence of the man to whom I had just promised my life?
My heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird, but survival instincts I didn’t know I possessed kicked in. I forced my facial muscles into a relaxed, slightly annoyed expression.
“Yeah, fine,” I lied, slipping the phone into my jeans pocket. “It was the wedding shop. Apparently, there was some confusion with the deposit for my veil rental. They need my physical credit card to process a refund before they close at noon. It’s so stupid.”
“Do you want me to drive you?” he offered, already searching for his car keys on the dresser.
“No!” I said, perhaps a fraction too quickly. I softened my voice, offering an apologetic smile. “No, you’re staying here and finishing packing. Just make sure you don’t forget the sunscreen this time. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. Quick check-in and check-out.”
Ryan smiled, leaning in to give me a soft, lingering kiss on the lips. I felt the familiar warmth of his skin, the comforting scent of his cedarwood cologne. But as I kissed him back, my mind raced, terrified by the sudden realization that the man holding me suddenly felt like a stranger.
“Come back quickly, Madam Carter,” he murmured against my mouth. “Bali is waiting.”
I grabbed my keys and purse, my hands shaking so hard they were trembling. As I pulled my car out of the driveway, I glanced at our beautiful house in the rearview mirror. Ryan was standing at the window, waving at me. I waved back, but my stomach was a pit of twisted vipers.
I drove along familiar, tree-lined suburban roads, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I was heading towards a government building to uncover a secret, praying to a God I hadn’t spoken to in years that it was all just a massive, terrifying misunderstanding.
Chapter 2: The Death Sentence Document
The city center was deserted on a Sunday morning. The municipal building—an imposing brutalist structure of gray concrete and stained glass—looked like a fortress. I parked my car in the narrow, shaded alley; Mrs. Delaney had described my tires crunching on loose gravel.
A heavy steel security door opened before I even reached it. A woman in her fifties, dressed in a simple gray cardigan and wire-framed glasses, stepped out. She looked nervously around the driveway before widening the door.
“Maya?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. Mrs. Delaney?
