Chapter 2 - The Marriage That Wasn't an Accident
I shut the door in Daniel's face.
Then I turned the lock.
Marcus did not move.
"Who paid it?"
He looked at the floor.
"Your father."
The answer hit harder than Daniel's hand had.
"My father knew Victoria was alive?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"From the night of the crash."
I stared at him.
"Start talking."
Marcus pulled out the chair across from the desk.
I did not sit.
Neither did he.
"Victoria's car went over a guardrail outside Frederick. The first responders found blood, broken glass, and a burned registration. No body."
"Daniel said the body was too damaged for a viewing."
"Daniel lied."
My hands curled.
Marcus continued.
"Your father had private investigators tracking a group of dormant companies. One of those investigators saw Victoria's car leave Daniel's apartment that night. He reached the crash before Patricia's people did."
"Patricia's people?"
"That was our assumption."
"Was?"
Marcus looked at me.
"We never proved who caused the crash."
I took a step toward him.
"But my father hid her."
"Yes."
"From Daniel?"
"From everyone."
"From me."
"Yes."
The word cracked something open.
I looked at the bookshelves my father had chosen.
The lamp he used to leave burning when he worked late.
Every object in the room suddenly felt like evidence.
"Why?"
"Because Victoria had found irregular transfers tied to Daniel and Patricia."
"How?"
"She worked as a junior analyst at one of your father's subsidiaries."
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
"So Daniel dated the analyst investigating his mother."
"At first, Victoria didn't know what Patricia was doing."
"And Daniel?"
Marcus did not answer quickly enough.
I closed my eyes.
"He knew."
"Parts of it."
"Stop protecting him."
"I'm not."
"You keep choosing softer words."
Marcus nodded.
"Then yes. Daniel knew his mother was moving money."
I walked to the window.
Police lights washed the front lawn blue.
Patricia stood near the drive, still holding her wineglass.
She had brought it outside.
Of course she had.
An officer was explaining something to her.
She waved him away.
Like staff.
Like everyone belonged to her.
I said, "Why did my father save Victoria?"
"Because she had evidence."
"Only that?"
Marcus's silence returned.
I turned.
"What?"
He opened another file.
A hospital invoice.
Emergency surgery.
Reconstructive treatment.
Private rehabilitation.
All under a false name.
Every payment authorized through an entity controlled by Jonathan Hale.
Three days before my father officially died, he approved the final transfer.
"Why would he do that if the investigation was already over?"
"It wasn't."
Marcus removed a sealed envelope.
My father's handwriting covered the front.
FOR EMILY - IF VICTORIA EVER COMES BACK.
My fingertips went numb.
"You had this?"
"Yes."
"Since when?"
"Since Jonathan died."
"And you didn't give it to me."
"Because Victoria did not come back."
I tore it open.
One sheet.
My father's handwriting.
WHAT HAPPENED TO VICTORIA WAS PRACTICE.
I stopped.
Marcus watched me.
I read the next line.
THE REAL TARGET IS YOU.
A sound left my throat.
Not a word.
Not a cry.
Just air.
I kept reading.
IF PATRICIA EVER PUSHES DANIEL INTO DIRECT CONTROL OF THE TRUST, ASSUME THE MARRIAGE WAS COMPROMISED FROM THE BEGINNING.
My knees weakened.
I sat.
Marcus stayed standing.
"What does compromised mean?"
"It means your father suspected Daniel was introduced to you intentionally."
"Suspected?"
"He never found the first email."
"I have it now."
"Yes."
I stared at the page.
My father had known enough to warn Marcus.
Not enough to stop the wedding.
Or maybe he had decided not to.
That thought hurt worse.
A knock came from the hall.
An officer.
"Ms. Hale?"
I opened the door three inches.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Cross is being transported for booking on the assault. His mother is refusing to leave the property."
"Remove her."
Patricia's voice rose from downstairs.
"You cannot throw me out of my son's home!"
I stepped into the hallway.
Every face turned.
I walked to the staircase.
Patricia stood below me in cream silk, one hand around the stem of her empty wineglass.
"Emily, tell them to stop this nonsense."
I looked at her.
"This is not Daniel's home."
Her mouth tightened.
"It is his marital residence."
"It is property held by the Hale Family Trust."
"You gave him access."
"Access is not ownership."
She climbed one step.
"You ungrateful little girl."
The officer beside her moved.
I held up one hand.
"No. Let her talk."
Patricia's eyes glittered.
"We took you in."
I almost laughed.
"You moved into my house."
"I made this family respectable."
"You spend ten thousand dollars a month from an account you never asked about."
Her face changed.
Small.
There.
I saw it.
Fear.
I continued.
"Your Mercedes lease ended tonight. Your staff accounts ended tonight. Your access codes were canceled tonight."
She gripped the banister.
"You cannot do that."
"I already did."
Her jaw shook.
Then she smiled.
"Daniel was right."
"About what?"
"You're unstable."
The word landed exactly where Marcus had said it would.
I looked at him.
He looked back.
Patricia saw the exchange.
She knew we knew.
For the first time, the smile vanished completely.
I walked down three steps.
"Who is the psychiatrist?"
She went pale.
I had my answer.
The officer escorted her toward the door.
She fought him with words, not hands.
At the threshold, she turned.
"You think Victoria is helping you?"
I stopped.
Patricia smiled again.
"Ask her why Jonathan paid her before the crash."
Then she was gone.
Marcus's phone buzzed.
He checked it.
"What?"
He turned the screen toward me.
A security alert from the estate server.
Someone had just attempted remote access to the study archive.
User initials:
V.V.
I stared.
Victoria.
Then another alert appeared.
LOCATION AUTHENTICATED: INSIDE ESTATE NETWORK.
Marcus looked toward the dark west corridor.
"Emily."
I heard a floorboard creak behind us.
Victoria was already inside the house.
May you like
CUT.
