That night, I gave my statement until the early hours of the morning, thinking that it was finally over. But at one forty two in the morning, I received an encrypted message from an unknown number.
“Do not trust Martha, she has much more evidence, but she is also far more afraid than you know,” the message read.
The next day, the news was already trending on social media. “Local official under investigation for a massive real estate extortion ring,” the headlines read.
My parents were crying, my neighbors were whispering, and my name started circulating in every local group chat. Brian called me later that afternoon, his voice sounding hollow.
“My dad is going to take the fall for everything, and he will tell the investigators that I didn’t know anything,” Brian said as if that solved our problems.
“And did you know?” I asked, waiting for the truth.
There was a long silence on the line. “Daniela, I never meant to hurt you,” he finally replied.
“You locked me in that room with them,” I reminded him.
He struggled to catch his breath. “I thought they were just going to scare you into signing,” he admitted weakly.
“Then you are even worse than they are, because you knew I was terrified and you still let them in,” I said before hanging up the phone.
