I barely made it to the hallway before the first sob tore from my throat.
The weight of my father's betrayal pressed against my ribs like a knife, each breath sharp and shallow. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but the tears came anyway—hot, furious, and utterly useless.
Married to Vincent de la Rosa.
The thought alone made my stomach heave.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it, but it buzzed again. And again. Reluctantly, I pulled it out, my sister's name flashing across the screen
I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I typed back.
Me: It's nothing.
The lie tasted bitter.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Elena: Bullshit. You never yell at Dad. What did he do?
I hesitated. If I told her, she'd panic. She'd try to fix it. And the last thing I wanted was Elena anywhere near Vincent de Rosa's radar.
But the truth was a storm inside me, and I was so damn tired of holding it in.
Me: He sold me.
The three dots froze. Then
Elena: ???
Before I could respond, my phone lit up with an incoming call. I swiped to answer, pressing it to my ear just as Elena's voice, sharp with alarm, cut through the silence.
"Penelope, what the hell do you mean he sold you?"
I squeezed my eyes shut. "Exactly what it sounds like."
"No way." Her breath hitched. "Tell me you're being dramatic. Tell me this is one of your metaphors."
"I wish." I muttered under my breath,look I'm fine Lena, your I don't have to worry about me just focus on retaining that scholarship, I'll be fine, I promise "
" Can't you just run away ,you can come to stay with me,I could hide you ".
"It's not that simple, lena," I said, my voice dropping lower, "Trying to bolt..." I swallowed hard, the operational jargon rising unbidden, fueled by panic and exhaustion, "...it's not a viable extraction scenario right now. The perimeter is too tight, assets are deployed, and the primary target..." I trailed off, cold flooding my veins.
Silence. Thick, heavy silence pulsed down the line.
Assets? Extraction? Primary target?
Oh God. Oh God, no.
I'd slipped. Catastrophically. The carefully compartmentalized world of Langley had just bled into my personal nightmare.
"Pen?" lena's voice was utterly changed. Gone was the frantic outrage, replaced by a chilling quiet. Confused, probing. "What... what did you just say? Extraction? Assets? Primary target? Penelope, what the hell are you talking about? Are you... are you in some kind of trouble? Real trouble?"
My blood ran cold. Panic, clawed at my throat. I'd spent years building walls between Penelope the sister/daughter and... the other me. Years of careful omissions, vague explanations for sudden trips, coded messages. And in one moment of soul-crushing despair, I'd breached the firewall.
Damage control. Now.
I forced a awkward, unconvincing laugh. It sounded hollow even to my own ears. "God, lena, listen to me! I sound ridiculous. Must be the stress. Too many spy novels lately. Bad TV. This whole... situation..." I gestured wildly at something she couldn't see.
There was silence after I spoke, Too long. I could practically hear her sharp mind whirring, piecing together my strange phrasing with my unexplained absences, my sudden 'promotion' to a vague 'international liaison' role at the think tank that was my cover.
"I'm just scared, lena," I whispered, letting the raw fear show this time, because it was the only true thing I could safely offer. "Terrified. Trapped. I don't know what to do. But I can't run. Not yet. Dad..." The debt wasn't just money; Vincent had implied consequences far worse than bankruptcy. Ruin. Physical harm. Leverage he knew I couldn't ignore. "Just... just promise me you won't do anything rash. Don't call Dad, don't confront Vincent. Please. For me. It would make things... worse."
"Worse than this?" Her voice cracked. "Pen..."
"Promise me, Lena !" The urgency, the command in my voice, startled even me. It was the tone I used on assets in peril. "Please. Trust me. Stay safe. Stay quiet."
Another pause. Then, a soft, reluctant sigh. "Okay, Pen. Okay. I promise. For now." The 'for now' hung heavy between us. "But you call me. Every day. You hear me? I need to know you're alive."
"I will," I breathed, relief warring with a fresh wave of guilt for dragging her into this, for the lie I was forcing her to live with. "I love you, lena."
"I love you too, Pen. Please... be careful." I ended the call and decided to go to bed, all of this was too much for me.