Chapter 7 - What My Mother Had Been Hiding
Mom agreed to meet at Elena’s office.
She refused Roman’s estate.
“I won't go into that man's house.”
I nearly laughed.
Dad had forged millions of dollars in my name, but Roman’s house was apparently where her standards lived.
She arrived wearing sunglasses despite the gray afternoon.
The woman who entered the conference room looked smaller than the mother I remembered.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Fear had a way of shrinking people.
Gregory hugged her.
I didn't.
She noticed.
Good.
“Who sent you the photograph?” she asked.
“We don't know.”
Her hands tightened around her purse.
“I do.”
Everyone became still.
“Who?”
“Victor Hale.”
Roman’s expression changed.
“You know him?”
Mom looked toward him reluctantly.
“I met him once.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Where?”
“At our house.”
I stared.
“I lived there.”
“You were traveling.”
“For work.”
“Yes.”
Roman remained calm.
“Why was he there?”
Mom looked at me.
“Your father was terrified.”
“Dad is terrified of lots of things lately.”
“Not like this.”
She took a breath.
“Victor had documents.”
“What documents?”
“Records showing Thomas had been moving investor funds.”
My stomach tightened.
“So Victor was blackmailing him?”
“At first.”
“At first?”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Then Thomas started working with him.”
The room felt colder.
Roman leaned forward.
“Doing what?”
“I don't know everything.”
“Tell us what you do know.”
Mom looked at him.
“I don't take orders from you.”
I spoke before Roman could.
“Then take one from me.”
She stared.
“If you walk out of here protecting Dad again, don't call me your daughter anymore.”
Her face crumpled.
It hurt to say.
But I meant it.
Mom opened her purse.
From an inside pocket, she removed a small brass key.
She placed it on the table.
The same key from the message.
“What does it open?” I asked.
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where?”
“First Connecticut Bank.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don't know.”
I almost lost patience.
“Mom.”
“I swear.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“Thomas gave me the key eight months ago. He said if anything happened to him, I should give it to Daniel.”
Roman asked, “Why didn't you?”
“Because two weeks later, I heard Daniel and Victor arguing.”
“About?”
“You.”
She looked at me.
“They said your name.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What exactly did they say?”
Mom swallowed.
“Daniel said, ‘If Sadie finds the second ledger, none of this works.’”
Nobody spoke.
“The second ledger?” I whispered.
Mom nodded.
“Victor told him to make sure you never saw it.”
Roman’s gaze sharpened.
“Did Thomas know?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you ask?”
“I was afraid.”
Of course.
Fear.
The organizing principle of my family.
I stared at the brass key.
“Why keep it?”
“Because I thought it might protect you.”
“You knew they were using my name.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I thought I could fix it quietly.”
“That is what people say when they're protecting themselves.”
“I was trying to protect Gregory too.”
Gregory looked at her.
“From what?”
Mom’s face changed.
She turned toward him.
“Your father told me if I interfered, he'd tell prosecutors you signed everything.”
Gregory paled.
“He said you'd go to prison.”
“So you let him frame Sadie instead?”
The room went silent.
Mom started crying.
“I told myself Thomas would never let it go that far.”
I stood.
“And when he offered me to Roman?”
She had no answer.
“When reporters called me a criminal?”
Still nothing.
I nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
“Sadie, please don't say that.”
“Why?”
“Because every time you say you understand, I feel like I'm losing you.”
“You already did.”
I walked out.
Roman followed several minutes later.
I stood near the elevators.
“Say something.”
“What?”
“Anything.”
He leaned against the wall.
“Your mother failed you.”
My throat tightened.
“That's not comforting.”
“It wasn't meant to be.”
I looked at him.
“She was scared.”
“Yes.”
“Does that matter?”
“It explains behavior.”
“Does it excuse it?”
“No.”
Simple.
Clear.
I nodded.
The safe-deposit box was accessed under Elena’s supervision.
Inside were three things.
A flash drive.
A handwritten note.
And an old leather notebook.
The note was addressed to Mom.
If you're reading this, Daniel has turned.
Trust no electronic records.
Everything real is in the ledger.
T.
Dad’s handwriting.
The notebook contained coded entries.
Dates.
Initials.
Dollar amounts.
Not enough to understand alone.
The flash drive held scanned contracts.
Marcus spent two hours comparing them against Miller Development’s records.
At 7:46 p.m., he walked into the conference room.
“This changes everything.”
He projected two versions of the same construction agreement.
The official version showed Miller Development paying nine hundred thousand dollars.
The safe-deposit version showed actual cost:
Five hundred twenty thousand.
Difference:
Three hundred eighty thousand.
That amount appeared in the ledger.
Beside it were initials.
VH.
Victor Hale.
Another contract.
Another difference.
Another VH.
Dozens.
Millions.
Roman stood at the back of the room.
His face had gone completely still.
Marcus continued.
“This isn't just embezzlement.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Someone was inflating project costs and extracting the difference.”
I looked at Roman.
“Victor.”
“Partly.”
Marcus enlarged another column.
TC.
Thomas Costa?
No.
Thomas Miller.
TM.
Daniel Mercer.
DM.
Victor Hale.
VH.
And one set of initials repeated across the largest transfers.
RC.
Everyone looked at Roman.
My pulse stopped.
Roman stared at the screen.
“That isn't me.”
Gregory whispered, “Your initials are RC.”
“I know.”
Marcus opened one more file.
A signed authorization.
Roman Costa.
His signature.
His company seal.
His approval for a twelve-million-dollar transaction.
Roman stared at it.
Then said quietly:
“That signature is forged.”
And suddenly the conspiracy wasn't designed to destroy only me.
May you like
Someone had been preparing to destroy Roman too.
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