Chapter 2: We Know About Marcus
Jett was holding a small envelope.
My name was written on the front in neat handwriting — not printed, not typed.
Handwritten.
Like someone had known exactly who would find it.
My hands were shaking as I opened it.
Inside was a folded note and a photograph.
The photograph stopped me cold.
It was me.
Taken outside the restaurant, maybe two nights ago.
I was walking to my car after a late shift.
I hadn't noticed anyone watching.
I looked up at Jett.
"What is this?"
He ran a hand over his face.
"There's more.
Turn the note over."
On the back, four words were written in the same neat handwriting:
*We know about Marcus.*
My stomach dropped.
Marcus is my younger brother.
He's been in serious trouble lately — the kind of trouble I've been quietly trying to fix without our mom finding out.
Nobody at this restaurant knows his name.
Nobody in my work life does.
So how did a couple I'd never seen before know exactly who to mention?
Jett looked at me carefully.
"Do you know who these people are?"
I shook my head.
But the truth was, the second I saw that name, one possibility had already started forming in the back of my mind.
One I didn't want to say out loud yet.
Because if I was right, this wasn't a random dine-and-dash.
This was a message.
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What did those people know about Marcus — and why did they target her specifically?
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The full truth is darker than it looks.
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