“Sedona was a turning point for me. I’d made a lot of bad decisions before that trip—ones I wasn’t proud of. But something about that place… it stripped me down. I sat in the stillness, and for the first time in years, I didn’t run from it. I don’t talk much about what came before. That’s not the part that matters. What matters is I walked out of Sedona knowing I had to change.”

Gina tapped her finger against the transcript. Reflective. Careful. Empowered.
Then her eyes went back to the suicide note, stark on the corkboard in Times New Roman:
“Sedona was the moment I knew I could die with a secret no one ever saw.”
Same place. Same memory. Completely different tone.
Valdez caught the look on her face. “Doesn’t sound like the same woman.”
“Because it isn’t,” Gina said quietly. “This wasn’t her voice. Somebody wanted us to believe it was.”