Chapter 14
My father’s name broke something in me.
Thomas Coleman had been stern.
Private.
Difficult.
But I had built a childhood around the belief that he was honest.
Harris warned me before showing the documents.
“I don’t know if he signed willingly.”
That was mercy.
I did not want mercy.
I wanted truth.
The signature was his.
But so was the second page.
A letter to Claire’s mother, Elaine Mercer.
Elaine,
If anything happens to Ryan or Claire, Peter cannot be trusted. Caroline Bishop is not acting alone. I have placed the original records in the lake cabin safe.
My father had known.
Not helped.
Known.
And died before telling me.
The lake cabin had been sold after his death.
To a shell company.
Owned by Caroline.
We obtained a warrant.
Inside the cabin safe were tapes, diaries, and a bloodstained scarf from the accident.
Claire touched the scarf and sat down hard.
“I wore this.”
Her face went gray.
Memories returned in pieces.
Rain.
Headlights.
Me shouting.
A black SUV hitting us again.
Caroline standing near the road afterward.
Not helping.
Watching.
Claire remembered one sentence.
“She said, ‘He won’t remember you by morning.’”
The tape in the safe was my father’s confession.
Not to crimes.
To cowardice.
He had discovered Peter’s fraud network.
He had suspected Caroline.
He had planned to go to police.
Then he died suddenly of a heart attack.
Voss signed the death certificate.
I listened to my father’s voice crack on the recording.
Ryan, if I fail, protect your family. All of them. Especially the child they say didn’t live.
Lily.
He knew.
He tried.
He failed.
I sat outside the cabin in the snow and cried for a man I had not understood.
May you like
Claire sat beside me.
For once, she reached for my hand first.
