Chapter 11 - THE CABIN
The cabin was four hours away in upstate New York.
Detective Ruiz refused to let us travel alone.
By sunset, two unmarked vehicles were following ours.
Mom sat in the passenger seat.
Julian drove.
I sat behind them, watching two people who had spent months falling in love now barely able to look at each other.
When we reached the lake road, snow had begun falling.
The cabin appeared between the trees exactly as Mom remembered it.
One light burned inside.
My heart started pounding.
Ruiz made us wait while officers checked the property.
Then she returned.
“One person inside.”
“Who?” Mom asked.
“An elderly man.”
My mother’s knees almost gave out.
She walked toward the cabin before anyone could stop her.
The door opened.
My father stepped onto the porch.
For twenty-four years, I had imagined that moment.
In some versions, I screamed at him.
In others, I hugged him.
Instead, I stood completely still.
Dad looked at Mom first.
“Sarah.”
She covered her mouth.
He looked at me.
His face crumpled.
“Claire.”
I hated that hearing my name in his voice still affected me.
I walked closer.
“You don’t get to hug me yet.”
He nodded.
“I understand.”
“You don’t get to tell me you did this for me and expect that to fix twenty-four years.”
“I know.”
“And you’re going to answer every question.”
“Yes.”
Then another voice came from behind us.
“He always was good at making himself the victim.”
Martin stood near the tree line.
I hadn’t heard him approach.
His hands were visible, but his face was nothing like the uncle I knew.
Ruiz immediately ordered him to stop.
Martin laughed.
“I’m not here to hurt anybody.”
Dad stepped off the porch.
“You already did.”
Martin looked toward Mom.
“You think David is innocent?”
Mom said nothing.
Martin’s smile disappeared.
“Ask him who signed the first Harlow transfer.”
Dad went pale.
I turned toward him.
“What is he talking about?”
Martin answered for him.
“Your father didn’t discover the fraud, Claire.”
May you like
He took another step.
“He helped start it.”
