Chapter 14 - THE LAST SECRET BENEATH THE STAIRS
Our old family home had been sold after the bankruptcy.
I'd watched strangers carry boxes through the front door.
I'd stood on the sidewalk holding a suitcase while Preston's lawyers told us the foreclosure was complete.
Now my father was telling me my mother had hidden something beneath the stairs.
Investigators obtained permission to inspect the property.
The current owners were shocked.
They had purchased the house through a bank auction.
They knew nothing about the Hayes family.
I returned with Roman and an investigator.
Standing in the old hallway felt like walking into a memory.
The staircase was still painted white.
The wooden railing still had the tiny scratch Marco, our childhood dog, had made years ago.
And beneath the stairs was the small storage closet where Mom kept holiday decorations.
I knelt.
Pressed my palm against the floorboards.
Then noticed something.
One board was slightly different.
Newer.
I pointed toward it.
"Here."
The investigator carefully removed the panel.
Inside was a waterproof metal container.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Roman crouched beside me.
"Sloan."
I opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Old architectural drawings.
And a sealed legal envelope.
Across the front, in my mother's handwriting, were the words:
FOR SLOAN — WHEN THE TRUTH FINALLY COMES HOME.
I began crying before I opened it.
The first page was a trust document.
My mother had placed her separate savings and a small piece of inherited property into a protected trust.
It had been designed to remain outside the construction company.
The documents also contained evidence that the foreclosure proceedings had included fraudulent claims against assets that didn't belong to the business.
The next pages detailed ownership records.
Financial transfers.
And correspondence connecting Charles and Victoria Hayes to the conspiracy.
But the final document mattered most.
A handwritten letter.
My darling Sloan,
If you're reading this, I hope you have survived everything I feared might happen.
Your father and I wanted you to have a beautiful life.
We wanted you to finish architecture school.
We wanted you to build the kind of places where people feel safe.
And we wanted you to know that no one can take away the person you are.
Tears fell onto the paper.
I continued reading.
The world may try to convince you that money and power decide a person's worth.
Don't believe it.
The strongest buildings stand because of what supports them underneath.
And the strongest people are often the ones nobody notices until everything begins to fall.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
Roman remained silent beside me.
Then the investigator found another envelope beneath the documents.
It contained a photograph of the original Halcyon construction team.
My father.
My mother.
Gabriel.
Roman.
And Charles Hayes.
On the back was a handwritten message.
THE FINAL ACCOUNT IS NOT IN CHICAGO.
Roman frowned.
"Then where?"
The investigator examined an attached bank statement.
His expression changed.
"There's an offshore holding account."
I looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
He swallowed.
"It contains assets stolen from multiple construction companies."
"How much?"
He looked toward Roman.
May you like
Then back at me.
"More than eighty million dollars."
