CHAPTER 0169
LAUREN’S POINT OF VIEW
Within moments, Jeff emerged from his room clutching a laptop that I assumed belonged to him. He settled into the chair opposite us and powered it on, the soft glow from the screen casting a subtle light across his concentrated face.
“Alright, Roman, you said you wanted some specific details about Lauren’s past. What exactly are you looking for?” Jeff asked, his fingers already flying over the keyboard with practiced speed.
Roman answered without hesitation, “We’re trying to uncover information about Ethan Black leaving his daughter alone in the house before she died.”
Jeff nodded, eyes glued to the screen. “I’ve pulled up something like that before, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice so only Roman could hear. “How long do you think this will take?” I whispered, anxiety tightening my chest.
Roman’s confidence was unwavering. “Just give him a few seconds.”
A few seconds? I thought skeptically. Even if Jeff had done this before, digging up something so sensitive—something that could utterly ruin what little remained of Ethan’s reputation—wouldn’t be instantaneous.
I glanced at Roman. He appeared calm, as if this was just another routine task. Meanwhile, my heart pounded harder with each passing moment. Those “few seconds” felt like an eternity.
Finally, Jeff swiveled the laptop toward me. The quiet hum of the machine filled the stillness between the three of us. My heart steadied, though my hands trembled slightly. I had already heard the gist of what Jeff claimed to have found, but seeing it laid out in front of me was a different experience altogether.
“There,” Jeff said, tapping the touchpad gently. “This is the article. The one that was taken off the internet years ago.”
The screen displayed a stark, plain white page—no colors, no flashy graphics—just text and a date from nearly seven years prior. The headline was small, almost innocuous.
“The Night Ethan Black Left His Daughter Alone – A Mistake That Changed Everything.”
Even reading those words silently made my throat constrict. My eyes scanned down the lines, each sentence unraveling truths I already knew but told in a voice that wasn’t mine.
The reporter’s tone was clinical, detached. “According to our source, Ethan Black, CEO of Black Corporation, left home that night to meet a woman later identified as his mistress, while his daughter, Elena Black, age four, was left unattended. Minutes later, the tragic incident that claimed her life occurred.”
I scrolled slowly, my finger lingering on the trackpad. The article continued with phrases like “reckless negligence” and “unconfirmed affair,” words meant to sound objective but dripping with accusation.
This wasn’t a tabloid piece; it was investigative journalism—the kind that only surfaces when someone is digging for truth, not mere gossip.
Roman sat back, watching me silently. He didn’t interrupt, and I appreciated the quiet support. Occasionally, I caught his reflection in the screen—patient, calm, waiting.
The next paragraph revealed details I hadn’t heard before: a neighbor who saw Ethan’s car leaving around 10:45 p.m., a woman’s voice overheard on a speakerphone, a frantic call that never reached him in time.
This wasn’t just rumor. Whoever wrote this had sources. They had pieced everything together carefully.
“How did you find this?” I finally asked, my voice low but steady.



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