Ellen’s POV

I groggily opened my eyes to the soft light filtering through the curtains. My mind slowly emerged from sleep, and I reached for my phone on the nightstand. Unlocking the screen, my heart sank as I read Martha's message: "Mr. Reid is in town, but did not sleep at home."

Unease settled over me like a heavy fog. Where could Zeke have gone? What could have kept him away all night? Sitting up, the realization hit me with a jolt of apprehension: Zeke never slept out. It wasn't his style. He only stayed away overnight when out of the country, and even then, he used his private jet to return quickly.

So, where was he? Why hadn't he come home? A thousand troubling possibilities raced through my mind. Urgent business? Trouble? Something worse?

As I pondered his absence, anxiety tightened in my chest. His aversion to sleeping out, coupled with his meticulous security measures, made this baffling. Was he with that woman? The thought enraged me. Or with the kids? Both?

"Argh!" The implications were ominous. I needed to find Zeke, and fast. His continued absence was increasingly precarious.

Urgently, I called Mr. Finley. "I need you to tail Zeke," I said firmly. "I need to know where he went last night, discreetly. No mistakes."

There was a pause. Then, Mr. Finley's familiar voice: "Understood, Miss Manor. Utmost discretion."

"And if necessary," I whispered, "I want someone undercover. We can't take chances."

"Noted, Miss."

After hanging up, I gathered myself before rising. A quick trip to the bathroom, and then I needed to see Liz at the precinct. I wasn't sure what I'd do there—maybe play the loving family.

In my closet, I chose fitted dark wash jeans, a chic oversized knit sweater in a neutral tone, and sleek cognac ankle boots. We were still facing persecution, but I wasn't broke.

The inviting aroma of breakfast greeted me as I descended the stairs. The table was laden with pastries, fruits, and cheeses—a royal feast. My parents were already seated, engaged in quiet conversation.

"Good morning, Mother, Father," I greeted them.

But just as I was about to sit, Gabriel arrived. Annoyance washed over me. Hesitating, my hand hovered over a chair.

My mother noticed. "Ellen, aren't you joining us?" she asked.

Forcing a smile, I replied curtly, "I've lost my appetite. I can't eat with a weasel, anyway."

With a quick nod, I left, their concerned gazes following me.

Soon, I arrived at the precinct. I tossed my bag to Ava and entered. Liz's disheveled appearance shocked me. She wasn't haggard, but a weariness clouded her eyes.

My heart sank. "Liz," I began, "look at you. What have you done?"

"If you're here to spew nonsense, get the fuck out," she retorted defiantly.

I recoiled, stung by her venom. But beneath her bravado, I saw a sister in distress.

"I was going to leave anyway," I said steadily, "but that doesn't change the fact you're in this mess because of your own actions."

Liz erupted in bitter laughter. Her words cut deep: "Oh, spare me your righteous indignation. Our family is so dirty and wasted. Just yesterday, I was supposed to be their savior, and now I'm the cause of their mishap."

Anger flared, but I forced myself to remain calm. We needed to work together.

Taking a deep breath, I met her gaze. "We need to figure out our next move," I said firmly. "We can't do that at each other's throats. We need to work together, now more than ever."

Liz stopped laughing. A chill ran down my spine as she said, "Kamille's spirit is back for all of you. She's hunting us down one by one."

A shiver crept up my spine. "Kamille's spirit?" I whispered incredulously. "Liz, you can't be serious."

Her expression was grave. "I'm dead serious, Ellen. You better watch your back, because Kamille's spirit will not rest until we all fall."

"I'll be waiting," I replied, despite the turmoil within.

Was this true, or a figment of Liz's imagination?

Fuck!

I stormed out. Ava approached, concerned, but I snapped, "Shut up!" and rushed to the car, Liz's words echoing in my mind. Her mental state must be deteriorating.