Chapter 7 - THE MAN ACROSS THE STREET
I slept at Jasmine’s apartment that night.
If lying awake with a baseball bat beside the couch counts as sleeping.
Every sound woke me.
Pipes.
Elevator doors.
A dog barking downstairs.
At 5:12 a.m., someone knocked.
Jasmine sat straight up.
I grabbed the bat.
Another knock.
“Hannah?”
Melissa.
Jasmine whispered, “Absolutely not.”
Melissa knocked again.
“I know you're in there.”
“How?” I shouted.
Silence.
Then she said, “Because Dad knows.”
That got the door open.
Melissa looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair tangled.
Purple sweatshirt.
And definitely no neck brace.
Jasmine folded her arms.
“You have thirty seconds before I call the police.”
Melissa stepped inside.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve more than that.”
“I know.”
I laughed.
“No, you don't.”
She looked at me.
“I faked the surgery.”
“Great. We solved that mystery.”
“But I didn't know Dad was planning to burn the bakery.”
“You still broke in.”
“I thought we were taking documents.”
“You destroyed my computer.”
“I was angry.”
“That excuse is getting old.”
Melissa flinched.
Good.
She should have.
Then she pulled a USB drive from her pocket.
“What is that?”
“Dad’s accounting files.”
I stared at it.
“How did you get them?”
“He kept backups at home.”
“Why bring them to me?”
“Because he lied to me too.”
I almost smiled.
“Now betrayal bothers you?”
Her eyes filled.
“He promised if I helped convince you to sell, he’d pay off my real debt.”
“So you do owe money.”
“Thirty-two thousand.”
“For what?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Credit cards. A personal loan. The boutique.”
Melissa had opened a clothing boutique eighteen months earlier.
It lasted nine months.
Instead of admitting she failed, she kept spending.
Mom and Dad kept rescuing her.
Then Dad apparently designed a bigger rescue.
Fake a medical emergency.
Pressure me to sell.
Steal the proceeds.
Everybody wins.
Except me.
Melissa handed me the drive.
“I found something last night.”
We opened it on Jasmine’s laptop.
There were folders for Silver Pine projects.
Loan documents.
Investor lists.
Transfers.
Then one file:
HC_EXIT.
My initials.
I clicked it.
Inside were scanned copies of my driver’s license, Social Security card, signatures, insurance paperwork, and photographs of Morning Finch.
There was also a document titled CONTINGENCY.
I opened it.
My throat closed.
If Hannah refuses asset sale, insurance proceeds may provide alternate liquidity event.
Below that:
Property loss: estimated $410K coverage.
Personal policy: $1M.
Jasmine whispered, “Personal policy?”
Melissa looked sick.
“There’s more.”
She clicked an audio file.
Dad’s voice filled the room.
“If she signs the sale papers, everything gets easy.”
Another man answered.
“And if she doesn't?”
Dad laughed softly.
“Then accidents happen every day.”
I couldn't move.
The unknown man spoke again.
“You’re talking about your daughter.”
Dad replied.
“I’m talking about survival.”
There was a long pause.
Then the second man said:
“You have until Friday, Robert.”
Today was Wednesday.
Melissa looked at me.
“Dad isn't just running from the police.”
“What happens Friday?”
May you like
She shook her head.
“I think somebody is coming to collect.”
