Chapter 12 - The Email
Ethan said the email referred to financial documents.
“Prove it.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course.”
“Mary.”
“No.”
We were in the same hotel suite where I had caught him with Brooke.
Three days had passed.
It felt like three years.
“You asked Adrian to deliver something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Victor’s guarantee files.”
“Why secretly?”
“Because Eleanor asked me to.”
I stared.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Then why wasn’t that in your story?”
“Because I didn’t know Adrian was involved with the formula.”
“Everyone in my life keeps having one more thing they forgot to mention.”
“I know.”
“No.”
“You don’t.”
I was exhausted.
Not physically.
Morally.
Every person I loved seemed to contain a hidden room.
Dad had known I was targeted.
Mom had turned the trap against Ethan without telling me.
Victor gambled family money.
Brooke laundered funds.
Ethan entered my life as a strategy.
Richard built decades of revenge.
Adrian knew all of it.
“Where is Adrian?”
Daniel called fifteen minutes later.
Airport.
He was arrested before boarding.
This time, authorities had enough.
Financial fraud.
Evidence tampering.
Conspiracy.
Adrian requested immunity.
His first statement lasted six hours.
And it changed everything.
He had taken the case from Dad’s office.
But not for Ethan.
For my mother.
Eleanor had asked him to secure it.
She already suspected someone had acquired Catherine’s formula.
Adrian delivered the financial files to Mom that night.
Then gave her the case.
She opened it in front of him.
One vial was missing.
“Who removed it?” I asked.
Adrian shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Who knew the case existed?”
“Brooke.”
“Victor.”
“Jonathan.”
“Richard.”
“And me.”
“Ethan?”
“No.”
I looked at Ethan.
For the first time, evidence moved away from him.
“Then why E.C.?”
Adrian gave a tired smile.
“Experimental Compound.”
Not Ethan Cole.
Two letters.
A coincidence that nearly destroyed him.
“What happened after you left?”
“Eleanor told me to disappear if she died.”
“Why?”
“She thought Richard would come after everyone.”
“Did you see Richard?”
“No.”
“Did you alter her medication?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
He hesitated.
“But I know who entered the house after Ethan left.”
“Richard.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Richard arrived at three oh-three.”
We knew that.
“Someone entered at two twenty-six.”
Before Ethan left.
“Who?”
Adrian looked at me.
“Brooke.”
My best friend.
Again.
I found her at her apartment.
She did not deny it.
“Why were you there?”
“Eleanor called me.”
“Why?”
“She knew about the money.”
“Did she know about the affair?”
“No.”
“Then why you?”
“She wanted me to testify against my father.”
“What happened?”
“I panicked.”
“Did you touch her medication?”
“No.”
“Did you touch her tea?”
Brooke stopped.
A tiny pause.
One second.
Maybe less.
Enough.
“What did you put in the tea?”
“Nothing.”
“What did you put in the tea?”
“Mary.”
I moved closer.
“What did you put in my mother’s tea?”
Brooke’s face collapsed.
“My father gave me drops.”
The room tilted.
“He said they would make her sleepy.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“He wanted time to take the ledger.”
“He told me nobody would get hurt.”
“How much?”
“Three drops.”
“What happened?”
“She said the tea tasted strange.”
Brooke was sobbing now.
“She put it down.”
“Did she drink it?”
“A little.”
“What did you do?”
“I left.”
“You left?”
“I was scared.”
My voice became almost inaudible.
“Did you know she died that night?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever wonder?”
“Every day.”
I stared at the woman who had spent three years comforting me over my mother’s death.
The woman who had sat beside me at the funeral.
The woman who had helped me choose white roses for my wedding.
“You knew you might have killed her.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew enough to stay silent.”
She collapsed onto the sofa.
I felt no triumph.
Only emptiness.
Her father had manipulated her.
Maybe.
But she had still carried the bottle.
Still put drops in the tea.
Still walked out.
Then she helped him bury the truth.
Brooke looked up.
“There’s something else.”
Of course.
“What?”
“My father didn’t give me the drops.”
I stared.
“You just said—”
“He told me they came from him.”
“Who actually handed them to you?”
Her lips trembled.
“Victor.”
I closed my eyes.
My uncle.
Again.
But when we confronted Victor, he laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because he had finally understood the last trap.
“I gave her the bottle,” he said.
“Yes.”
“But Richard gave it to me.”
“Can you prove that?”
“No.”
“Then we’re back where we started.”
“No.”
Victor looked toward Dad.
“Not exactly.”
He opened his phone.
“I recorded Richard.”
The recording was from four years earlier.
Richard’s voice.
Give the girl three drops.
She’ll sleep.
Eleanor will never know we took the ledger.
Then Victor’s voice.
What is it?
Richard answered.
Something Catherine left behind.
Victor asked the question that mattered.
Is it dangerous?
Richard replied.
Not at that dose.
May you like
He lied.
And my mother died.
