Chapter 7 - THE TABLE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO TRAP MY FATHER
Table eighteen had never been about an elderly woman's coat.
It had been a trap.
My father planned to meet Teresa there because he trusted her.
Lorenzo discovered the meeting.
Garrett received orders to clear the table.
Then Teresa arrived early.
And I refused to move her.
For the first time, I understood how close everything had come to ending differently.
If I had obeyed Garrett—
Teresa might have left.
Dad might have arrived alone.
And someone could have reached him before Vincent walked through the doors.
I felt sick.
Vincent looked toward my father.
“Why didn't you contact me directly?”
Dad gave a bitter smile.
“Because I didn't know whether you were compromised.”
Vincent flinched.
Fair.
Then Dad removed a small drive from his pocket.
“This contains the records I've been preserving.”
Rebecca took it carefully.
“What kind of records?”
“Construction fraud. Medical billing. Political payments. Restaurant accounts.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much money?”
Dad looked exhausted.
“More than forty million dollars over twelve years.”
Teresa covered her mouth.
Vincent stared at the drive.
Then asked quietly:
“How much of it passed through my companies?”
Dad met his eyes.
“Enough that you need independent attorneys.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Vincent nodded.
“Do it.”
That surprised everyone.
Dad raised an eyebrow.
“You understand what that might expose?”
“Yes.”
“You could lose businesses.”
“Yes.”
“You could face legal consequences.”
Vincent looked toward his mother.
Then at me.
“I spent years telling people loyalty mattered more than truth.”
His voice hardened.
“That ends now.”
Rebecca arranged for the evidence to be preserved and shared through proper legal channels.
The investigation expanded quickly.
Garrett was questioned.
Several administrators were suspended.
Lorenzo Moretti disappeared from his Chicago residence.
And journalists began asking questions.
The Magnolia Room temporarily closed.
For once, I didn't care about my old job.
Mom was the only thing I could think about.
We brought Dad home.
I will never forget the moment he walked through our apartment door.
Mom stood in the kitchen.
A mug slipped from her hand.
It shattered.
Dad stopped.
“Diane.”
Mom stared at him.
Then slapped him.
Hard.
Tyler gasped.
Dad didn't move.
Mom hit his chest.
Again.
Again.
“You were alive?”
Her voice broke.
“You were alive?”
Dad caught her wrists gently.
“I am so sorry.”
Then Mom collapsed against him.
They both cried.
I turned away.
Some moments belong to the people who survived them.
Later that night, Dad sat beside her bed.
She had her cardiac scan the following morning.
For the first time, I felt like something in our family might finally heal.
Then Rebecca called.
Her voice was tense.
“Hannah, we've examined the drive.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you find?”
“One file is encrypted.”
“Can you open it?”
“We did.”
Silence.
Then she continued.
“It contains a list of patients.”
My heart pounded.
“From St. Anne?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Your mother's name appears again.”
I froze.
“But this time she's listed as deceased.”
My blood ran cold.
May you like
Then Rebecca whispered:
“According to the file, someone scheduled Diane Reed's death nine years ago.”
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