Chapter 3 - The Little Moon
I walked toward the vault.
Alexander immediately blocked me.
“What is inside it?” I asked.
“Company assets.”
“Then why are you scared of a three-year-old opening it?”
Richard stepped between us. “Enough.”
Alexander rounded on him. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Richard said. Then he looked at me. “Twenty-six years ago, Alexander and I founded Carter Defense Systems with a third partner. That partner designed nearly every mechanical security patent that made this company valuable.”
My knees weakened before he said the name.
“Gabriel Moreno.”
I stared at him. “That’s impossible. He fixed elevators.”
Richard gave me a sad look. “That’s what he did after he left us.”
I looked at Alexander. He said nothing. Silence told me more than any confession.
“What happened?” I asked.
His gaze shifted toward the vault. “Things became complicated.”
“He accused Alexander of moving patent ownership into shell companies,” Richard interrupted. “Gabriel discovered accounting irregularities.”
Alexander laughed bitterly. “That accusation was never proven.”
“Because Gabriel disappeared from the company before the hearing,” Richard countered.
“He didn’t disappear,” I said. My mind flooded with memories of our sudden move to an apartment above a laundromat. “Alexander fired him.”
Neither man answered.
Sofie pointed at the vault. “The little door opened more.”
The corner panel had shifted outward perhaps half an inch. Alexander rushed toward it. Richard grabbed his arm.
“You know Gabriel’s failsafe,” Richard said.
“That failsafe was removed.”
“Apparently not.” Richard swallowed. “Gabriel designed emergency mechanical bypasses separately from electronic systems. This opens the truth compartment.”
Alexander punched him.
Richard stumbled backward into the table. I screamed. Sofie began crying.
Alexander froze the instant he heard her. He wiped his hand on his trousers.
“Elena, if you leave now, you will spend the rest of your life wondering.”
“I already spent half of it wondering why my father died exhausted and broke.”
Sofie sniffled. “Mommy, I can show you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But Grandpa wanted us to know. His box says the same thing.”
Every hair on my arms rose. “What same thing?”
She pointed at the hidden seam. “A little moon.”
I stepped closer. Beside the seam, nearly invisible against brushed titanium, was a tiny crescent engraved into the metal. A moon for me. Because when I was small, he called me Lunita.
I touched the engraving. My hand began shaking.
Sofie knelt. “Grandpa always makes you do three things.”
She tapped the crescent once. Pushed the panel. Then pulled the vault handle halfway down.
Clunk.
May you like
A narrow drawer sprang from the base.
(Read more of this exclusive drama at https://metro.treeiq.biz)
