The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 186

Naomi recognized Tracy; she had seen her before and the name rang a bell. “You’re Tracy, right? Lester’s cousin?”

She made a point of clarifying Tracy’s connection to Lester. With that relationship established, it was clear Tracy shouldn’t get any funny ideas.

Tracy nodded, her face expressionless. “Is Lester home?”

“He is, but he was exhausted and just went to take a shower,” Naomi replied, watching Tracy with a half-smile.

The moment Naomi saw her, she remembered that one time she’d called Lester and a woman had answered, speaking to her in the same ambiguous tone. It must have been Tracy.

Tracy didn’t seem offended. She just nodded coolly. “Then I won’t bother him. Let Lester get some rest. We can talk about work tomorrow.”

“Alright, see you, Tracy,” Naomi said, waving her off with a genial smile.

Tracy just looked at Naomi, her eyes dark and searching, but she said nothing and turned to go.

Once she was outside, Tracy immediately called Zachary.

“Godfather, Naomi beat me to it. She showed up before I could,” she reported briskly.

The plan had been for her to offer comfort to Lester when he needed someone most, swooping in like some kind of savior. She hadn’t anticipated Naomi would get there first.

She had thought that what happened before would have driven Lester and Naomi apart, but after tonight, she worried their feelings would only grow deeper.

Zachary’s voice exploded with anger. “Lester can’t even follow my instructions? Does he want Naomi to die right in front of him? I’m going to call him right now and ask if he wants the company or that woman.”

...

At 4:30 the next morning, every news station was broadcasting live. Anchors delivered the news with heavy hearts and misty eyes.

The somber announcement echoed across the screens: “Flight HM555, en route from Aquora to Skyrim, has crashed during an emergency in Haven. There are no survivors.”

When the broadcast aired, Yves and Lindsay woke as if from a nightmare, their backs drenched with cold sweat, bodies trembling with fear.

Lindsay’s face was drained of color. She turned to look at Yves, and in the glow of the bedside lamp, she saw how ashen his face had become.

A sense of dread gripped her heart. Swallowing hard, she hesitated before finally whispering, “I just dreamed that Mr. Quigley Sr.’s plane crashed.”