Chapter 7 - THE ACCIDENT THAT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT
My father hadn't simply been unlucky.
That was the thought I couldn't escape after watching the garage recording.
I remembered the intersection.
The headlights.
The screech of tires.
The violent impact against the passenger side of our car.
The stranger who lost control and struck us.
For days, I'd replayed those seconds in my mind.
If we'd left dinner five minutes earlier.
If I'd taken another route.
If I'd insisted Dad wear a different seat belt.
Grief had turned every ordinary decision into a punishment.
Now I wondered whether someone else had deliberately created the danger.
Samuel immediately contacted the investigator handling the collision.
The police had initially classified it as a serious traffic accident.
The other driver had reportedly experienced a sudden vehicle malfunction.
He survived with injuries.
His name was Thomas Keene.
Forty-two.
A contract driver.
And according to the available information, he'd been operating a rented vehicle.
Rebecca looked at the rental records.
Then went pale.
"What?" I asked.
She pointed toward the rental account.
"The vehicle was reserved through a company connected to Northstar Development Services."
The room fell silent.
My hands began shaking.
Samuel looked toward me.
"Claire, we need to allow investigators to verify the connection."
I nodded.
But I already knew one thing.
This wasn't a normal coincidence.
Over the following days, the police reviewed the garage footage, the rental records, and the mechanical evidence.
An independent vehicle examiner identified suspicious damage to a component involved in the rented SUV's control system.
The original crash report had not fully explained the failure.
The investigation expanded.
I tried to focus on ordinary things.
Eating.
Sleeping.
Attending follow-up appointments for my hand.
But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Dad struggling against his seat belt.
I heard him whisper:
Don't be scared, sweetheart.
One afternoon, Rachel visited me at Dad's apartment.
She brought lunch and sat beside me at the kitchen table.
"You need to eat."
I stared at the soup.
"I'm not hungry."
"I know."
She waited.
Then I whispered, "What if I caused this?"
Rachel looked at me.
"What do you mean?"
"If I hadn't been driving..."
She shook her head gently.
"Claire, the crash wasn't your choice."
I looked down at my bandaged hand.
"But Dad only went to dinner because he wanted to see us."
Rachel took a breath.
"Your father wanted to spend time with his daughter. That was an act of love, not a mistake."
I began crying.
For the first time since the funeral, I let someone sit beside me without trying to pretend I was strong.
That evening, Ethan called.
I almost ignored him.
Then I answered.
"Claire?"
His voice sounded different.
Exhausted.
"I've been reviewing the Northstar accounts."
I went still.
"What?"
"Samuel contacted our legal department. I asked for an independent audit."
I gripped the phone.
"And?"
"Elliot approved transactions I never personally reviewed."
"Under your authority."
"Yes."
He didn't make excuses.
That surprised me.
Then he continued.
"I also found payments connected to Victoria."
My heart pounded.
"Did you know?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
A long silence.
Then he said quietly, "I knew she was receiving money from entertainment contracts involving some of our venues. I didn't know about the other payments."
I closed my eyes.
"Ethan, my father is dead."
His breathing changed.
"I know."
"Someone may have caused that crash."
"What?"
I told him about the new investigation.
He went silent.
Then whispered, "Claire, I swear I didn't know."
I looked toward Dad's photograph.
"Maybe you didn't."
My voice broke.
"But you were the person he came to for help."
Ethan began crying.
I'd never heard him cry like that.
Then he said something that made me stop breathing.
"Claire, there's something I need to confess."
I gripped the phone.
"What?"
May you like
His voice trembled.
"The night before your father's accident, Victoria asked me to sign an authorization giving Elliot access to our private security records."
