Chapter 11 - No Forgiveness Included
Vanessa arrived at Nora’s office with her own attorney.
She wore no diamonds.
Abigail refused to mistake that for courage.
“You have ten minutes.”
Vanessa sat at the far end of the conference table.
“I’m sorry.”
Abigail waited.
“What I did was—”
“You slapped me. Say that.”
Vanessa’s face tightened.
“I slapped you.”
“Because?”
A long silence.
“Because I thought I could.”
Abigail felt Isabella shift beside her.
Nobody rescued Vanessa from the answer.
Her attorney opened a folder.
“My client has documents she is prepared to provide through counsel.”
Nora held up a hand.
“Let’s establish what they are and how she obtained them.”
The documents included emails sent to Vanessa as a board observer for Sinclair Freight.
She had rarely read them.
That admission landed badly.
One email summarized a proposed settlement with Daniel before his death.
Another discussed his complaints about maintenance records.
A third, written after the crash, referred to the need for a “consistent driver-error account.”
Abigail’s eyes stopped on the date.
Two hours after Daniel died.
Before anyone told her.
“They were writing this while I was calling his phone.”
Vanessa said nothing.
“They knew he wasn’t coming home.”
Her voice rose.
“And somebody still let it ring.”
Nora placed a glass of water beside her.
Abigail pushed it away, then immediately felt foolish.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Nora said.
Vanessa looked down at her hands.
“My father told me you were trying to extort the company.”
“And you believed him.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever ask what happened?”
“No.”
Abigail leaned back.
“Then don’t come here hoping this makes you different from him.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
Vanessa’s lawyer slid a second item across the table.
A copy of a signed consulting agreement.
Owen recognized the company name when Nora called him into the room.
The firm supplied private investigators to Sinclair.
A recent invoice listed surveillance of Abigail’s apartment and workplace.
It did not authorize a break-in.
It did not mention threats.
But it gave police a place to start.
Vanessa stood to leave.
At the door, she turned.
“There’s something else.”
Abigail felt her stomach tighten.
“My father has scheduled a shareholder announcement tomorrow.”
“What announcement?”
“He’s going to say Daniel falsified the maintenance records himself.”
May you like
Abigail looked at the pages in front of her.
Even dead, her husband was still the easiest person in the room to blame.
