The world stops.
Ethan.
My baby brother. Seventeen years old. Tied to a chair in what looks like a basement. His face is swollen, bruised purple and black. Blood streams from his nose, his split lip. One eye is completely shut.
He's crying. I can see tear tracks cutting through the blood on his face.
And he's looking directly at the camera with an expression that says he knows exactly what's happening. Knows I'm supposed to see this. Knows this is my fault.
"No." The word tears out of me. "No no no, you said—you promised you wouldn't hurt him—"
"I promised I wouldn't kill him if you cooperated." Patrick's voice is pleasant now. Conversational. "But you're not cooperating, are you? You're fucking with my intelligence instead."
"I'm not—I didn't—"
"Don't fucking lie to me, girl." He pauses. "Ethan paid the price for your distraction. Next deadline, he pays with more. Eventually, he pays with his life."
I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe. "Please don't hurt him. Please, he's just a kid, he didn't do anything—"
"Then do your job." Patrick's voice goes cold again. "You have twenty-four hours to send me Lev Volkov's complete schedule for the next two weeks. Every meeting. Every location. Every movement. If I don't have it by this time tomorrow, I send you another photo. Except next time, Ethan will be missing fingers."
"I can't—"
"Yes, you can. You photographed his planner didn’t you? That means you’re smarter than you look.”
How do I tell him I’m actually not smarter than I look? That Lev set traps for me, and I fell for it, and that’s the only reason I was able to take those pictures?
“I saw the images you sent. But they were incomplete. Old information. I need current data. I need to know where he'll be and when so I can plan accordingly."
Plan accordingly.
"If I give you that information, you'll kill him." My voice breaks completely. "You'll kill Lev and his men will investigate and know it was me."
"That's not your concern. Your concern is keeping your brother alive. Your mother safe. Yourself breathing." He pauses. "Twenty-four hours, Valerie. Don't disappoint me again."
He hangs up.
I stare at the photo of Ethan for a long time. At his swollen face. At the blood. At the fear in his eyes.
This is my fault. All of it. He's being tortured because I couldn't get Patrick what he wanted fast enough.
But if Lev dies, what happens to Mila?
Seven years old. Already lost her mother and baby brother to violence. Finally starting to trust again. To smile again. To feel safe.
I'd be destroying her. Again.
But Ethan is my brother. My actual family. And he's being tortured right now because of me.
I pull up my photos. Find the ones from Lev's planner. Stare at the schedule entries.
Friday: Shipment arrival. Pier 17. 11:00 PM. M + 4.
Monday: Meeting. Warehouse District. 2:00 PM. M + 6.
Thursday: Dinner. Russo's. 8:00 PM. Personal.
All I have to do is forward these. Hit send. Patrick gets what he needs. Ethan gets released.