Chapter 8 - THE TAPE THAT COULD DESTROY THEM ALL
My mother had kept the cassette tape hidden for nineteen years.
Nineteen years of medical appointments.
Overdue bills.
Cheap apartments.
And fear.
I looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Mom's eyes filled.
"Because knowing about it could have put you in danger."
I swallowed.
"Mom, I'm already in danger."
She nodded sadly.
"I know."
The recording was examined and copied by investigators before anyone attempted to play the aging tape.
The audio wasn't perfect.
There was static.
A clicking sound.
Then Vincent Cain's voice filled the room.
I watched Adrian's face change.
He hadn't heard his father's voice in nine years.
"Sebastian," Vincent said, "the money belongs to the patients."
A man laughed.
"Don't become sentimental."
"I'm ending the arrangement."
"You're making a mistake."
Vincent's voice hardened.
"The children's medical fund was supposed to help families. You've turned it into your personal account."
I glanced toward Mom.
She closed her eyes.
The recording continued.
Sebastian said, "You knew how this worked."
"I knew about certain transfers. Not the forged treatment claims."
A heavy silence followed.
Then Vincent spoke again.
"I have copies. If anything happens to me, they'll reach the authorities."
The tape clicked.
A chair scraped.
Then Sebastian said quietly, "You have two sons, Vincent. Think about them."
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Adrian stood.
His face was pale.
"My father knew."
Mom nodded.
"He helped create some of the arrangements. Then he tried to stop them."
Adrian looked at the tape.
"He threatened to report Sebastian."
"Yes."
"Then he died."
Mom nodded.
"But that isn't proof Sebastian killed him."
I looked at Adrian.
He took a slow breath.
"I know."
For the first time, I understood how difficult that admission was for him.
He wanted someone to blame.
Someone he could confront.
But the truth mattered more than anger.
The investigators began reviewing the tape alongside financial records and medical evidence from Vincent's death.
Within days, several former employees agreed to cooperate.
One was a retired accountant.
Another was a hospital administrator.
The third was a woman named Delaney Shaw.
One of the three women who'd mocked Adrian outside Rossi's.
When I heard her name, I almost dropped my coffee.
"Delaney?"
Adrian nodded.
"Her family handled legal work for the foundation."
I stared.
"Then why was she laughing at you?"
"Maybe because she believed I was powerless."
I remembered her raising her phone.
Filming.
Smiling.
Enjoying the humiliation.
Then it occurred to me.
"What if she wasn't just making a cruel video?"
Adrian looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"What if she was recording proof that Coraline had found you?"
His expression sharpened.
The investigators obtained the video Delaney had posted before deleting it.
Most of the footage showed the sidewalk.
The torn coat.
The bread.
Me arguing with the women.
But in the final seconds, Coraline stepped aside and made a phone call.
The audio captured six words.
"It's him. The daughter is here."
Adrian stared at the screen.
Then another voice answered through the phone.
A man's voice.
"Then you know what to do."
I recognized that voice.
Not from television.
Not from a recording.
From my mother's hospital waiting room.
May you like
It belonged to her doctor.
Dr. Nathaniel Price.
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