Chapter 9 - The Bag in the Bridal Suite
I forwarded the document to Ruth without opening the attachment again.
Her response came quickly.
Do not sign. We need to review this carefully.
June drove to Seacliff House that afternoon with my written authorization to retrieve my belongings.
I stayed on the phone while she met the duty manager.
“She has a black work bag,” June explained. “A laptop, paperwork, and a corporate credit card may be inside.”
The manager hesitated.
“Her mother told our staff that family property was to be released only to Mr. Vale.”
June's voice went flat.
“Her mother doesn't own her property.”
“I understand.”
“Then please get the bag.”
Twenty minutes later, June called from the parking lot.
“I've got it.”
“Everything there?”
“Your laptop, your notebook, your wallet, and the charger you always complain about losing.”
“My corporate card?”
A pause.
“Yes. It's in the zippered compartment.”
Relief washed through me.
Then June said, “Merritt, there's something strange.”
“What?”
“The little paper seal you put over the card sleeve is torn.”
I closed my eyes.
I'd started sealing that sleeve after a work conference where someone had accidentally taken my bag.
It was a simple personal habit, not a sophisticated security measure.
But I'd replaced the seal the last time I handled the card, two days before my surgery.
The physical card was still there.
Someone had opened the compartment.
June photographed the bag and seal before touching anything else.
Then she drove straight to my apartment, where she secured everything until I could review it with my employer.
That evening, Alina Ortiz called me.
I recognized her voice from our messages.
“I'm glad June found your bag,” she said.
“You spoke with her?”
“She was at Seacliff when I was collecting our flower equipment.”
Alina hesitated.
“I should tell you something.”
“What?”
“Your mother was furious when I mentioned I had filmed the staircase.”
A chill moved through me.
“Did she ask to see the video?”
“She asked if I'd deleted it.”
“What did you say?”
“That I hadn't.”
Alina exhaled.
“She told my supervisor that I'd violated the family's privacy. I think she's trying to get me fired.”
Guilt stabbed at me.
“You shouldn't lose your job because of me.”
“This isn't because of you,” Alina said. “I watched somebody hurt you, and then I watched your family try to make everyone believe you were the problem.”
We stayed quiet for a moment.
Then she added, “The venue manager told me the security system recorded the staircase too. They've preserved the footage because of the ambulance call.”
That meant Alina's video might not be the only evidence.
I thanked her and ended the call.
Then I received a text from Dad.
Your mother and I never touched your corporate card. Stop making accusations.
I looked at the torn seal in June's photograph.
May you like
For years, my father had told me to believe what he said instead of what I could see.
This time, I had no intention of listening.
