Chapter 20 - The Person I Trusted
By morning, Celeste Whitmore was under federal investigation.
Whitmore Health froze three executives.
Harbor Fund's remaining assets were placed under court supervision.
Julian filed to reclaim his voting rights.
Vanessa publicly resigned from every family foundation.
Dominic's attorneys informed him he should prepare for subpoenas and possibly worse.
Nobody won cleanly.
That felt right.
Mom received treatment from an independent nephrology team. Her condition was serious, but the wrong dialysis solution had been stopped. For the first time in years, her doctors were treating the actual cause instead of the story somebody had written over it.
I should have felt relief.
Instead I stared at Dad's photograph.
THE MAN RUNNING THIS IS SOMEONE AVERY TRUSTS.
My circle of trust was not large.
Mom.
June.
Maybe Dominic, which annoyed me.
Mateo, barely.
I took the photograph to June's gym.
She looked at the man across from Celeste.
Her face went blank.
That was enough.
"You know him."
"Avery—"
"Don't. Everybody says my name like that right before lying."
June sat down.
"His name is Peter Lang."
"Who is he?"
"He used to work federal organized crime."
"Used to?"
"Then he disappeared into private intelligence."
"Why would Dad say I trust him? I've never met him."
June looked toward the office door.
Mom stood there.
I turned.
Her face told me before she spoke.
"You have met him."
My stomach tightened.
"When?"
Mom whispered, "He was your father's best friend."
I searched my memories.
Dad had one friend who came to tournaments sometimes.
Uncle Pete.
Not an uncle by blood.
The man who bought me my first pair of competition gloves.
The man who drove us home the night Dad "died" because Mom could not stop crying.
I had not seen him since the funeral.
"Peter Lang was Uncle Pete."
Mom nodded.
My mouth went dry.
"Dad says he's running this."
"Thomas suspected him."
"And you didn't tell me."
"I didn't know where Peter was."
A voice came from the gym entrance.
"You could have asked."
Every muscle in my body locked.
An older man stood by the door.
Silver hair.
Expensive coat.
Same warm smile I remembered from childhood.
Uncle Pete.
June moved between us.
He laughed softly.
"Still protective, June."
I stepped around her.
"Did you work with Celeste?"
"Yes."
"Did you threaten my mother?"
"No."
"Did you order Keene to keep her sick?"
"No."
"Then what the hell are you doing here?"
Peter looked almost sad.
"Saving Thomas's daughter from making the same mistake he made."
I felt cold.
"Where is my father?"
Peter's eyes shifted.
Not away.
Toward the back office.
My heart stopped.
The office door opened.
A man stepped out slowly.
Gray beard.
Limp.
Older face.
My father's eyes.
Mom made a broken sound behind me.
I could not move.
"Avery," he whispered.
Eight years of grief collapsed into one second.
I wanted to run to him.
I wanted to hit him.
I wanted to be nineteen again and never know any of this.
Then Peter Lang said, "Before you hug him, ask Thomas why he sent Vanessa to find you."
I looked at Dad.
His face changed.
Vanessa had said she found me on her own.
Dad whispered, "Avery, I can explain."
And that was how I learned the birthday cake, the deliveries, the humiliation, and even Vanessa's cruelty had not begun with Celeste.
My father had opened the door.
END OF SEASON ONE.
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