Chapter 8 - UNCLE DANIEL

Arthur broke every speed limit on the way home.

Police were already there when he arrived.

Daniel stood calmly in the driveway in a navy suit.

“Arthur.”

Arthur got out of his car.

“Why are you here?”

Daniel looked wounded.

“I heard what happened.”

“How?”

“Elena called me.”

Of course she had.

Arthur walked closer.

“Why did you ask for Noah?”

Daniel frowned.

“I didn’t.”

“Maria says you did.”

“And Maria is a liar.”

Arthur’s fists tightened.

Daniel lowered his voice.

“You don’t know what that woman wants.”

“I know what Elena wants.”

“Do you?”

Daniel stepped closer.

“For ten years, Elena has cleaned up your messes.”

“What messes?”

“Business. Family. Your father.”

“My father?”

Daniel’s expression shifted.

Just enough.

Arthur pulled the letter from his coat.

Daniel stared at it.

Arthur saw recognition immediately.

“You’ve seen this before.”

“No.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Daniel sighed.

“Arthur, give me the letter.”

“Why?”

“Because Thomas was sick when he wrote whatever nonsense is in there.”

“He mentioned Blue Crest.”

Daniel’s face hardened.

“Give me the letter.”

There it was.

Not a request.

A command.

Arthur stepped back.

“Police are twenty feet away.”

Daniel smiled faintly.

“You think that protects you?”

Arthur’s blood ran cold.

“Was Blue Crest you?”

Daniel stared at him.

Then laughed.

“You always were slow.”

Arthur lunged.

Two officers grabbed him.

Daniel didn’t move.

“Careful,” he said. “You already have paperwork calling you unstable.”

Arthur froze.

Daniel leaned closer.

“You hit me in front of witnesses and Elena gets everything she needs.”

Arthur understood.

The guardianship petition.

The psychiatric claims.

The staged evidence.

It wasn’t only about money.

They wanted him discredited.

Removed.

Ray came outside.

“Mr. Vance, Noah is asking for you.”

Arthur ignored Daniel and went inside.

Noah ran into his arms.

Arthur held him tightly.

“I got you.”

“Uncle Daniel scared Maria.”

Arthur pulled back.

“What did he say?”

Noah looked toward the doorway.

“He said Mommy was coming to get me tonight.”

Arthur stared at him.

“What else?”

Noah whispered:

“He said after tonight, you wouldn’t be my dad anymore.”

Arthur’s phone buzzed.

An emergency court notification.

A hearing had been scheduled for 8:00 a.m.

Elena Vance was seeking immediate temporary custody.

Attached was an affidavit from a psychiatrist Arthur had never met.

The diagnosis was devastating.

Violent episodes.

Paranoid delusions.

Substance abuse.

Danger to minor child.

Every word was a lie.

But one section contained photographs.

Arthur opened them.

His stomach dropped.

The pictures showed him screaming.

Breaking furniture.

Holding a bottle of whiskey.

And in the background—

Noah was crying.

Arthur whispered, “When the hell were these taken?”

Maria looked over his shoulder.

“They weren’t.”

Arthur turned.

“What?”

She zoomed in on one image.

“Look at your hand.”

Arthur looked.

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