Chapter 12 - The Last Threat
I reached my mother's hospital room just as a nurse was adjusting her oxygen tubing.
My heart nearly stopped.
"Mom!"
Helen looked up.
"Emma?"
I rushed toward her.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded weakly.
"What's wrong?"
I hugged her.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then Detective Ramirez entered with two officers.
"The floor is secure," she said.
I looked at her.
"Did someone come here?"
"An unauthorized visitor attempted to access your mother's room. Hospital security stopped him."
My stomach tightened.
"Who was he?"
"A man carrying a forged medical identification badge."
I felt sick.
"Samuel?"
Ramirez shook her head.
"No. Someone working for him."
I sat beside Mom.
My hands were trembling.
For fifteen years, she had lived in fear.
And now the same people were trying to reach her again.
I looked toward Ramirez.
"Please tell me you can stop this."
She nodded.
"We're close."
I wanted to believe her.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
Meet me alone, Emma. Or your mother will never receive the evidence that could save her life.
I stared.
Another message arrived.
Midnight. Old Morgan warehouse. No police.
I showed Ramirez immediately.
She read it carefully.
"Do not respond."
I nodded.
"But what if they're telling the truth?"
"We'll investigate the claim. You do not need to meet them."
I looked at Mom.
She was watching me with frightened eyes.
"Emma," she whispered, "don't go."
I took her hand.
"I won't."
For the first time in my life, I meant it.
I wasn't going to let dangerous people decide what happened to my family.
Investigators traced the message.
The sender had used a temporary number, but the location data and other evidence pointed toward an abandoned warehouse owned by a Morgan subsidiary.
Ramirez coordinated a police operation.
Vincent provided property records.
Rebecca worked with medical specialists to review Mom's treatment.
And I stayed beside her hospital bed.
Hours passed.
At 1:17 in the morning, Ramirez returned.
Her expression was serious.
"We found Samuel Price."
My heart pounded.
"Is he alive?"
"Yes. He's in custody."
I closed my eyes.
"And Richard?"
"Also arrested."
I began crying.
For the first time in fifteen years, the people my mother feared couldn't simply walk through our front door.
Ramirez sat beside me.
"There's more."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Officers recovered medical records and financial documents from the warehouse."
My stomach tightened.
"And?"
"Among them were your father's records from the private facility where he was held."
I stopped breathing.
"Does it say what happened to him?"
Ramirez nodded.
"The records suggest Thomas survived his injuries for several weeks. We're arranging independent verification."
My hands shook.
"Did he leave anything?"
Ramirez looked toward Rebecca.
Then handed me a sealed evidence copy.
Inside was a letter.
My father's handwriting.
My darling Emma,
If this reaches you, remember that nobody can take away the love your mother and I have for you.
Tears blurred the page.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
There's one thing I never told you about Vincent Morgan.
My stomach tightened.
He wasn't always the man you know.
Before money changed him, he was the boy who shared his lunch with me when I had nothing.
I stared.
The letter continued.
If he ever finds his way back to that boy, perhaps he'll finally understand what matters.
I covered my face.
Then I noticed a second page.
A legal document.
Signed by my father.
And Vincent.
It established a trust for me.
Created fifteen years earlier.
I looked toward Rebecca.
"What is this?"
She studied the document.
Then whispered, "Emma, your father wasn't simply an employee of Morgan Industries."
I stared.
"What?"
May you like
Rebecca looked directly at me.
"He was one of the company's original shareholders."
