“Just a small dose,” he said. “It should help you rest better.”

Shallow sleep, if left unchecked, could blur the line between dreams and waking life, and that could spiral into something far more frightening.

“But don’t overdo it,” Hamza warned. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it’s working at first, do not increase the dose on your own.”

“Understood,” said Eric, his tone grim. “I’ll make sure she follows it exactly.”

Elsewhere, progress on Eric’s side remained slow. Neville and Savannah, however, were preparing to leave Srixby and return to Ontmond. Savannah’s health had declined, and Neville had arranged for a private flight to ensure she traveled comfortably.

Hadley remembered what Elissa once told her—Neville was powerful back in Ontmond: wealthy, well-known, the kind of man who owned homes that looked like hotels. Elissa had been raised in that world—wrapped in silk and glass.

Watching Neville tend to Savannah with such care, Hadley couldn’t help but wonder: What would Elissa’s life have looked like if she had stayed in Ontmond? If she’d never come to Srixby? She might have married someone from her parents’ circle—someone chosen for her, rich and unbothered. Maybe she would have had an easy, cozy life. Instead, she came to Srixby. She endured. And in the end, her life had unraveled in the worst way imaginable.

Aside from Hadley, Ernest had also come to see them off. He hadn’t known much about Savannah before, but now he understood—she had the power to protect Elissa. And she had tried.

Before they left, Savannah asked to speak to Hadley alone.

She held her hand tightly, her eyes glassy with grief. “If you hear anything about Elissa—anything at all—promise me you’ll tell me right away.”

“I promise,” Hadley said, her voice soft. Her chest ached, but she held herself together. “Please take care of yourself, Mrs. Brown.” Savannah gave a faint nod. “I will.” But she refused to face Ernest.

She had no intention of speaking to the man who had shattered Elissa’s heart.

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The plane took off right on time.

Hadley glanced at Ernest, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ernest, let’s go.” He didn’t answer right away. It took him a moment before he nodded, his eyes blank, as though his soul had been pulled far away.

They headed toward the parking garage together.

“Mr. Flynn!” Quentin came running, breathless, his face drained of color. Ernest’s brows drew together. He could tell something was wrong. “What is it? Speak up!”

Quentin looked shaken. “The police called. They found Miss Holland.” Hadley froze. Her head snapped toward Ernest.

Ernest’s body went stiff. A cold dread spread through him, tightening every muscle. “Where is she?”

“At the police station.”

The words dropped like lead. Hadley felt the blood rush from her face. Ernest closed his eyes, a wave of darkness sweeping over him.

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