Chapter 6 - THE PRICE OF SILENCE
My father froze.
For the first time, he seemed uncomfortable.
Only for a moment.
Then he recovered.
“No one hates you, Sophie.”
“You let Uncle Preston hurt me.”
“That was an accident.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Her voice trembled.
“He told me you would protect him.”
The attorneys exchanged glances.
Officer Mercer switched on his body camera.
My father noticed.
His expression hardened.
“You are questioning a child who has suffered a concussion.”
Mercer replied calmly.
“She volunteered the statement.”
My father turned to me.
“Control this situation.”
I laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You still think you control me.”
“I am trying to protect everyone.”
“You are protecting Preston.”
“He is your brother.”
“She is your granddaughter.”
My father lowered the document.
“You have no idea what your brother’s arrest would cause.”
“Then tell me.”
He said nothing.
“What is so important that you would threaten a child?”
His eyes shifted.
That was the first sign that there was something larger than the wedding.
Officer Mercer saw it too.
My father slipped the papers back into the folder.
“This offer expires at midnight.”
I stepped closer.
“Take your offer and leave.”
“Think carefully.”
“I have.”
He walked away with the attorneys.
Sophie watched until he disappeared.
Then she whispered, “Are we going to lose our house?”
I returned to her bedside.
“No.”
“You don’t know that.”
Her honesty hurt.
“You’re right.”
“I don’t know.”
“But a house is only walls.”
“You are my home.”
She began to cry.
I held her carefully.
Officer Mercer waited near the door.
When Sophie fell asleep again, he approached me.
“Your father just attempted to influence a witness.”
“Can you arrest him?”
“Not yet.”
“He threatened us.”
“He worded it as a financial offer.”
“So powerful people can threaten you if they use polite language?”
Mercer looked tired.
“Often.”
My phone buzzed.
An email had arrived from an unknown address.
The subject line read:
FOR SOPHIE.
Inside was a link to a cloud-storage folder.
Mercer stopped me before I clicked it.
“Let cybercrime inspect it.”
Twenty minutes later, a technician confirmed the link was safe.
The folder contained dozens of files.
Bank records.
Invoices.
Audio recordings.
Photographs.
Rachel had sent everything before she disappeared.
The first audio file was dated six years earlier.
Mercer pressed play.
Preston’s voice filled the room.
“She is a child.”
My mother answered.
“That is why people will believe she took it.”
Cassandra laughed softly.
“What if her father goes to the police?”
My father replied.
“He won’t.”
“He has too much to lose.”
The recording ended.
I felt physically ill.
They had framed Rachel’s daughter together.
Mercer opened another file.
It showed transfers from a children’s charity into shell companies controlled by Preston.
Millions had vanished.
Then a newer spreadsheet appeared.
The total was far greater.
Forty-eight million dollars.
Mercer leaned closer.
“This is not only about charity money.”
“What is it?”
“These accounts are connected to the acquisition your mother mentioned.”
I looked at him.
“If the deal closes tomorrow, these transactions could disappear inside a larger corporate structure.”
“That is likely.”
“So the wedding was cover.”
“Possibly.”
“The guests were investors.”
“Board members.”
“Regulators.”
“Preston needed them all distracted.”
Mercer nodded.
“And he needed you discredited.”
“Why me?”
A new file appeared in the folder.
A scanned copy of my late grandmother’s trust.
I had never seen it before.
The final page contained one sentence highlighted in yellow.
CONTROLLING VOTING RIGHTS SHALL PASS TO EVELYN WHITMORE UPON HER THIRTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY.
My thirty-fifth birthday was tomorrow.
I stared at the document.
Preston had not framed Sophie because he hated being challenged.
He had framed her to destroy my credibility before I inherited control of the family company.
Then Mercer’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face darkened.
“They found Rachel’s car.”
“Where?”
“Abandoned near the river.”
“Was she inside?”
May you like
“No.”
There was blood on the driver’s seat.
