Page 43 of Symphony for Lies (Tangled Truths #2)

Zane's POV

As we sped through the city, I called my mother. I needed confirmation.

She picked up quickly. “Zane? What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t normal for me to call her, especially not at such a late hour. Ever since the fucking disaster with Ella and my mother’s ridiculous engagement stunt, we had barely spoken. Just thinking about it made my blood boil.

“Do you know Gilbert Watson?” I cut straight to the point.

Silence.

“What? Why are you —?”

“I don’t have time for this. Do you know him or not?”

“ Zane, watch your tone! I ’ m still your mother.”

A mother who wanted to sell me off to an unwanted marriage and tear me away from the love of my life.

I exhaled sharply, “Just answer the question.”

She sighed, “I’ve apologized for my mistakes. Please don’t keep punishing me for them.”

I shut my eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Please. This is important. Do you know him?”

“… Gilbert Watson… yes, I knew him. He was a rival of mine once. He had talent, real talent. He was an artist.”

Her voice softened, sounding almost nostalgic. “He had a vision. He was brilliant—”

“You once told me your class hung wind chimes outside an old community center. What was that about?”

“Oh… yes,” she murmured, lost in thought.

“That was a special project. Gilbert arranged them in a specific order to create a melody of peace. A farewell song for the departed. A symbol of rest for those who passed . He did it for his daughter. She died young. After that, he left town. I never heard from him again.”

A farewell for the dead.

And he had become a killer?

“ Why are you asking about him?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t planning to tell her the truth, but the words left my mouth anyway. “I think he’s the serial killer. And I think he has Amelia.”

A sharp inhale. “Oh my God.”

Silence.

I was about to hang up, but she said, “He always praised her .”

A vice clenched around my chest.

“Gilbert never praised anyone unless he truly believed they were special.”

My teeth ground together. “She is special. She’s brilliant. She’s… more than that.”

“Zane, I never said she wasn’t. My pride just made me blind to what actually mattered.” Her voice was quiet, regretful. “Gilbert once told me Amelia reminded him of his daughter. Listen to me,” she pleaded. “This is dangerous. Please. Just come home.”

I shook my head furiously. “I won’t run from this. Amelia didn’t. And neither will I.”

I hung up.

I never told my family about my own abduction. Not because I was ashamed but because I knew they’d use it as another reason to blame Amelia. To twist the narrative.

I wouldn’t let them.

My phone vibrated again.A voice message from my mother.

My fingers hovered over the screen for a second before I opened it.

“Zane… I was thinking. There’s something else … Gilbert had a strange way of talking about music. He believed it was a bridge. A transition between the living and the dead. He thought certain sounds could guide a soul.”

A cold chill slithered down my spine.

“I don’t know what he’s planning to do with Amelia, but if he sees her as some kind of salvation , you need to hurry. Now.”

The message ended.

I stared at the screen.

Salvation.

A violent rage tore through my chest as I slammed my foot down on the gas.

Spencer cleared his throat, fingers flying over his phone. “It looks like you were right.” He barely glanced up as he kept typing. “I’m alerting my team. We’re locking down the entire perimeter. No exits. No escape routes. We’ll trap this son of a bitch and bring Amelia home.”

I nodded, his determination anchoring the chaos inside me. “Thank you.”

Spencer scoffed, “Don’t thank me yet.”

We were running on a guess.

Even if I was wrong, I’d rip apart every inch of the city until I found her.

The area was swallowed in darkness. Only the dull glow of a few streetlights cast flickering patches of light, barely illuminating the towering building before us.

But it was too quiet.

No wind chimes. No soft, eerie clinking of metal in the breeze. Just the low whistling of the wind as it slithered through the barren trees and coiled around the tall hedges of the labyrinth.

Something wasn’t right.

I parked the car and stepped out, my body thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer followed, just as tense.

“The chimes should be ringing.”

I nodded. The wind was strong enough to send them into a chaotic melody. And yet, nothing. Not a single sound.

I dragged my eyes over the building. Its tower stretched toward the sky, crowned by a massive circular window glowing like an eerie night eye.

A thick, clawing sense of unease curled around my ribs again.

I reached for the front door. Locked.

Just as I was about to kick it in, Spencer’s grip clamped down on my shoulder.“Let’s check the labyrinth first.”

I wanted to shove him off, eager to tear through the place with my bare hands, but I exhaled sharply and forced my feet to move.

“Look.”

Shattered wind chimes littered the ground, splintered into sharp, jagged pieces.

“Someone destroyed them on purpose.”

Spencer analyzed the scene, his expression unreadable.

All I could think about was Amelia. Where the fuck was she?

We reached the garden, and the wildflowers, which were normally tangled and chaotic, were neatly trimmed.

Too precise. Too controlled.

Someone had tended to the place with obsession.

The aster blooms glowed under the faint light, their petals pristine and untouched.

So perfect. So beautiful. So wrong.

I followed the winding stone path until we reached the entrance of the labyrinth. The hedges loomed high, too high to see over.

A tall iron gate blocked our way.

Spencer checked the lock. “Shit. It’s bolted shut.”

“Move.” My voice sounded barely human.

I grabbed the bars and yanked, making the metal groan. The noise split through the silence like a gunshot.

Adrenaline surged through my body, seeming to make me stronger.

I pulled and kicked the metal repeatedly. The lock creaked. The bars rattled. I was relentless. Eventually, the metal snapped, and I tore the gate open.

“One more step…” a deep, gravelly voice began. “…and none of us are walking out of here alive.”

I froze.

A man strode out of the shadows.

Tall. White hair. White beard. And eyes that were cold, empty, and dead.

I didn’t need an introduction.

Mr. Watson.

Rage exploded in my chest. I wanted to tear him apart, but Spencer was faster. He seized my arms and locked me in place.

“Let me go!” I roared, thrashing against him. “Let me fucking go!”

“Look at his hand!”

I barely processed his words.But then, I belatedly saw what he was talking about.

A small, simple switch.

My heart stopped.

A detonator.

“Fuck. That could be a bomb. You wanna save Amelia or kill her?”

I panted, my fury blistering hot under my skin.

A low chuckle drifted through the air. “Not as reckless as I thought.” Watson toyed with the switch, rolling it between his fingers. “I have someone here. If anyone enters the labyrinth, I’ll know immediately.”

His thumb traced the trigger.

“One push and it all ends.”

I imagined tackling him. Slamming him to the ground, ripping that device from his fingers and crushing him.

“Don’t.” Spencer’s fingers dug into my arm. “He wants you to lose control.”

My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

“Amelia has to find her own way out.” Watson’s voice was calm. Almost fatherly. “That is her task. If she succeeds, I let her go. If not…”

My blood turned to ice.

“You sick son of a—”

His lips curled up. “Those are the rules.” He pulled a knife from his pocket.“This is my game.” With that, he turned and disappeared.

Spencer ripped me backward before I could follow the psychopath.“We have to think. He has Amelia. If you run in there, she dies.”

My breath came out in ragged gasps. My chest ached. She was so close. Somewhere in the fucking labyrinth.

And I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t help her. I was fucking useless.

“No, no, no!” Panic clawed at my throat.

Spencer’s gaze flicked to the building. “Come with me.”

My legs refused to move.

“Zane. Get. It. Together.”

He grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the building. I let him. But my mind… my heart stayed behind with her.

Spencer kicked open the doors of the old parish, making the heavy wood slam against the walls with a resounding boom. We swept the room with sharp, frantic eyes—

Nothing.

No sign of life.

Just silence.

He bolted for the stairs, and I followed. Up we went until we reached the large, circular window at the very top of the building.

A single chair and a pair of binoculars sat in front of it.

Someone had set it all up.

“Fuck!” I hissed.

Watson wasn’t working alone. But who?

Spencer grabbed the binoculars and raised them into his eyes.

A moment later, he froze.

“I can see her.”

Without thinking, I ripped them from his hands. My fingers trembled as I scanned the labyrinth, the winding paths, the dead ends…

My heart stopped.

Amelia was ghostly pale, with streaks of blood trailing down her arms and legs. Her body shook against the cold.

She wore nothing but a thin white dress with spaghetti straps that barely clung to her shoulders and her bare feet pressed against the freezing ground.

She clutched at her chest, her breath was ragged, and her eyes were unfocused as if she was fighting to stay conscious.

Then, she suddenly flattened herself against a hedge .

“Amelia…” My heart clenched so painfully I thought it would rip in two. I could see her. But I couldn’t reach her.

I kept my eyes locked on her, but then I saw a flash of movement and adjusted the binoculars.

There he was.

Watson.

He stood right behind the hedge Amelia was pressed against, a shadow waiting to strike.

I wanted to scream, but she was already moving. Amelia turned and sprinted.

I dropped the binoculars.

Spencer caught them mid-air. “I need to find the second person. Whoever’s helping him.” His voice was tense, calculated. “If we don’t, we won’t be able to get to Amelia.”