Chapter 9 - APRIL SEVENTEENTH
My father had died eight years earlier.
April 17.
A highway accident outside Philadelphia.
Rain.
A guardrail.
A police officer arriving at my mother’s house at 2:13 in the morning.
That date had split my life in half.
Before and after.
Dad had been the only person who refused to believe I caused the collapse of my company.
He told me the numbers didn’t make sense.
He promised to prove it.
Two days later, he was dead.
I had never connected those things.
Until now.
Daniel’s face looked different.
Marcus stopped breathing for a second.
Noah whispered, “No.”
Luke didn’t say anything.
I looked from one brother to another.
“You knew?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not this.”
“But you suspected something.”
Nobody answered.
“You suspected something?”
Luke finally spoke.
“Dad called me that night.”
My knees weakened.
“What?”
“Three hours before the crash.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he made me promise not to.”
I laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“He’s been dead eight years, Luke.”
“I know.”
“What did he say?”
Luke looked at Derek.
“He said he found the missing money.”
Derek’s chair creaked beneath his grip.
My brothers all turned toward him.
Luke continued.
“Dad believed North Ridge Solutions was connected to someone close to Claire.”
My throat tightened.
“Did he say Derek?”
“No.”
Derek exhaled.
Then Luke added, “But he said he was driving to meet the person who could prove it.”
Derek’s relief vanished.
“Who?” I asked.
“We never found out.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because you were pregnant, your company had collapsed, Dad had just died, and there was no evidence his crash was anything except an accident.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“No.”
I turned toward Derek.
“Where were you that night?”
“At home.”
“With me?”
“No.”
I remembered.
He had told me he was helping one of his first business partners prepare investor documents.
“Who were you with?”
“Claire.”
“Who?”
He looked toward the floor.
“Nobody you know.”
Vanessa suddenly whispered, “Elena.”
Derek’s head snapped up.
I stared at her.
“You know?”
“She told me they met eight years ago.”
Derek stood.
“She lies about everything.”
Vanessa ignored him.
“She said they were together before you even knew about me.”
My brain struggled to keep up.
“Before me?”
Vanessa looked confused.
“No. Before me.”
Then she realized what I meant.
“I don’t know when he met her.”
Derek rushed toward the front door.
Noah blocked him.
“Move.”
“No.”
“I’m leaving my own house.”
Luke spoke.
“You can leave.”
Noah stepped aside.
Derek hesitated.
He hadn’t expected permission.
“Go,” I said.
He looked at me.
I meant it.
“Walk out.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You think this is over?”
“No.”
I picked up Sophie.
“I think it finally started.”
Derek grabbed his coat.
Then Ethan said, “Hold on.”
Another message had appeared.
DON’T LET HIM LEAVE WITH THE BLUE CAR.
Derek froze.
We all looked through the front window.
His blue Mercedes sat at the curb.
Luke walked toward the door.
“What’s in the car?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s in the car, Derek?”
“Work stuff.”
Ethan’s laptop chimed again.
TRUNK.
Noah went outside.
Derek shouted after him.
“You touch that car and I’ll have you arrested!”
Noah ignored him.
The Mercedes was unlocked.
He opened the trunk.
For several seconds, he simply stared inside.
Then he looked back at us.
Daniel stepped onto the porch.
“What is it?”
Noah reached into the trunk and lifted a cardboard storage box.
Old.
Water-stained.
A familiar name was written across the side in black marker.
CLAIRE HART - FINANCIAL RECORDS.
My father’s handwriting.
I stopped breathing.
Noah carried it inside.
There were folders inside.
Bank documents.
Printed emails.
A flash drive.
And a sealed envelope.
The front said:
May you like
FOR CLAIRE - IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO ME.
Derek lunged for it.
