Chapter 6 - THE FILE THAT SHOULD NEVER EXIST

Nobody touched the file.

Not immediately.

Because sometimes you can feel danger before you see it.

The folder sat there like a warning.

Waiting.

I reached for it.

Clara grabbed my arm.

“Lawson.”

I looked at her.

“What?”

Her voice was quiet.

“What if this is what they want?”

I stared at the file.

“What do you mean?”

“What if they want you to find it?”

I looked around the room.

The hidden office.

The secret compartment.

The message.

Everything had been arranged.

Someone wanted me here.

Someone wanted me angry.

But I had already learned something.

A trap only worked if you were afraid to step inside.

I opened the folder.

The first page was a medical report.

Jonah Mercer.

Age: six.

Blythe Mercer.

Age: six.

My heart started pounding.

The next pages were worse.

Blood tests.

Medication records.

Doctor notes.

And one sentence written in red ink.

EXPERIMENTAL RESPONSE MONITORING.

I felt sick.

“These aren’t medical records.”

Clara looked over my shoulder.

“What are they?”

I turned the page.

“They’re reports.”

“Reports for what?”

I looked at her.

“For watching my children.”

Silence.

Someone had been tracking them.

Their health.

Their reactions.

Their pain.

For how long?

I kept reading.

Then I found something.

A signature.

My eyes stopped.

Because I knew the name.

I had seen it thousands of times.

A person who worked beside me.

A person who had attended family dinners.

A person who held Jonah when he was a baby.

My hands tightened around the paper.

“No.”

Prescott looked at me.

“What?”

I showed him.

His expression changed instantly.

“That can’t be right.”

But it was.

The signature was real.

The date was real.

The evidence was real.

My phone suddenly rang.

Unknown number.

Again.

I answered.

“Talk.”

The voice returned.

“You found the file.”

My expression hardened.

“You wanted me to find it.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

A pause.

“Because you needed to know what kind of man you really are.”

I looked at the file.

“What does that mean?”

“You spent your whole life protecting your empire.”

The voice became colder.

“But when it mattered most…”

A pause.

“You failed your family.”

My anger exploded.

“Where are you?”

The person laughed.

“You still don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“The person who destroyed your family was never trying to hide.”

I looked around the room.

“What are you saying?”

The voice whispered:

“They wanted you to see them.”

The call ended.

That night, I stayed beside Jonah and Blythe’s beds.

I watched their breathing.

Every rise and fall of their tiny chests.

I thought about every moment I missed.

Every warning I ignored.

Every person I trusted.

A small hand suddenly grabbed mine.

I looked down.

Blythe was awake.

“Daddy?”

“I’m here.”

She looked at me.

“Are you sad?”

I forced a smile.

“No.”

She knew I was lying.

Kids always know.

“Are we going to be okay?”

I looked at my daughter.

Then at my son.

And I made a promise.

“Yes.”

My voice became firm.

“We are.”

Because whoever started this war had made one mistake.

They thought hurting my children would break me.

They were wrong.

It had created something much worse.

A father with nothing left to lose.

At 4:12 in the morning, Prescott rushed into the room.

“Lawson.”

I stood immediately.

“What happened?”

He handed me a phone.

“We found the owner of the hidden account.”

I looked at the screen.

A name appeared.

And every piece of the puzzle suddenly moved into place.

Because the person funding the operation…

was someone who had been standing beside me from the beginning.

Someone I trusted.

Someone who knew my family better than anyone.

And someone who had just sent me a message.

I opened it.

Only six words appeared.

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