Chapter 2 - The Ghost in the Frame
I took the phone into the kitchen, away from the prying eyes of the guests.
My hands were shaking as I wiped the blue frosting off my fingers with a paper towel.
I pulled up the video.
It started with Rowan’s face, grinning into the camera.
"Hey guys! We're at my sister's boring party and we're about to spice things up!"
I fast-forwarded through her monologue.
I watched the bat swing.
I watched the blue frosting fly.
But as I paused the frame to see my own reaction, I saw it.
In the background of the shot, tucked behind the pile of baby gifts, was Rowan’s large canvas bag.
The bag was open.
And leaning out of it was a heavy black binder.
The camera had captured it with high-definition clarity.
BUTLER, M. CASE FILE. VOLUME 4.
Butler was my maiden name.
Madison Butler.
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.
Why did my sister have a legal case file with my name on it?
And why "Volume 4"?
I scrolled the video back to the beginning, looking for more clues.
I found the moment Sawyer mentioned.
2 minutes and 38 seconds.
At this point in the video, Sawyer had turned the camera slightly to the left before the "big swing."
He had caught Rowan in a reflection of the sliding glass door.
While the guests were focused on me, Rowan wasn't just recording.
She was leaning over my purse, which I had left on the side table.
Her hand was inside my bag.
She pulled out my wallet, tucked something into her pocket, and then slid the wallet back.
It happened in three seconds.
It was practiced. Professional.
I felt sick to my stomach.
Rowan wasn't just here to ruin a party.
She was here to rob me. Or worse.
I took a screenshot of the binder.
I took a screen recording of the theft at 2:38.
I sent both to Cormac.
He was still in the house, probably dealing with the catering staff.
I waited.
The seconds felt like hours.
My phone vibrated.
"Madison."
Cormac’s voice sounded different—lower, sharper.
"I see it. I see the binder."
"Cormac, what is it? Why does she have a file on me?"
"That isn't a medical file, Maddie," he said, his breath hitching.
"I’m an investigative journalist. I know that coding."
"That’s a witness protection discovery file."
"Someone has been digging into the records of our move three years ago."
I felt the world tilt.
We hadn't moved for my job. We had moved because Cormac’s last exposé had put a target on our backs.
Rowan wasn't just being a mean sister.
May you like
She was selling us out.
***
