PART 2: THE INVISIBLE WOMAN
Camille returned the next afternoon.
This time, she was calmer.
More controlled.
More dangerous.
She sat beside him, scrolling through something on her phone—financial reports, asset transfers, legal drafts.
“You’re taking your time,” she whispered. “That’s fine. I’ve already started reorganizing things.”
She leaned in, smoothing his hand like a performer on stage.
“The board is easier than I expected,” she said softly. “People always collapse faster when they smell power.”
Then she smiled.
“It’s almost insulting.”
Sebastian lay still.
Listening.
Memorizing every word.
She stayed for ten minutes, then left without looking back.
As soon as she was gone, Hannah entered again.
This time, she didn’t bring towels.
She brought nothing.
Just hesitation.
She stood by the window for a long moment before speaking.
“I checked the records,” she whispered.
Sebastian’s mind sharpened instantly.
“What they say happened to your accident… it doesn’t fully match the vehicle telemetry logs I saw being moved.”
A pause.
“I shouldn’t have seen them.”
That alone told him everything.
Someone in his system had already started cleaning the truth.
Hannah continued, quieter now:
“I don’t know who you trusted,” she said. “But someone inside your company helped make sure you wouldn’t wake up.”
Silence.
Then she added:
“And I think they’re still here.”
For the first time, Sebastian felt something colder than anger.
Not betrayal.
Structure.
A conspiracy with shape.
And Hannah had walked straight into its shadow without even realizing it.
When she turned to leave, he made a decision.
Very small.
Very precise.
His hand shifted slightly toward the edge of the blanket.
Just enough to brush her wrist.
Hannah froze.
Slowly, she looked down.
Nothing obvious.
No movement.
But she stepped closer anyway.
“…Mr. Rossi?”
A pause.
Then, softer:
“If you can hear me… don’t trust anyone who speaks too freely around you.”
She hesitated.
Then added:
“Not even me.”
And she left.
Sebastian stared at the ceiling.
May you like
For the first time, he wasn’t choosing whether to wake up.
He was choosing when.
