Chapter 9 - THE SECOND FIREThomas Vale’s car had been found beneath an overpass.
One gunshot wound.
No weapon.
No wallet.
Professional enough to look planned.
Messy enough to send a message.
The case was no longer about inheritance fraud.
Someone was cleaning up history.
Marcus stood beside me outside police headquarters.
“You need protection.”
“I spent five years in rehabilitation centers, temporary housing, courtrooms, and shelters.”
“That doesn’t make bullets less dangerous.”
“Fine.”
He blinked.
“You’re agreeing?”
“I’m learning.”
He smiled.
Small.
Real.
It was the first warm moment either of us had experienced.
Then his phone buzzed.
His smile vanished.
“The estate.”
“What?”
“Fire alarm.”
My blood turned cold.
We drove there with police.
The Mercer estate had been empty since my supposed death.
Dad kept it but never lived there again.
Smoke poured from the east wing.
Again.
I stood behind police barricades while firefighters entered the same corridor where I had almost died.
Marcus grabbed my arm.
“Stay here.”
“Don’t tell me to stay outside my own life.”
“Caroline.”
But I saw something through a ground-floor window.
Movement.
Someone inside.
I ran.
Marcus cursed and followed.
Smoke filled the entry hall.
Memory crashed into reality.
Heat.
Wood snapping.
My lungs burning.
“Caroline!”
Marcus caught me.
“There!”
A figure disappeared toward the study.
We followed.
The study had already begun burning.
Someone had opened the old safe.
Papers lay scattered.
I saw a person wearing a black jacket climb through the side window.
Marcus pursued.
I moved toward the safe.
Inside was one envelope untouched by flames.
My name.
Caroline.
I grabbed it.
Then part of the ceiling fell.
Marcus tackled me backward.
Fire exploded across the room.
We crawled out.
Outside, paramedics checked us.
Marcus was furious.
“You could have died.”
“I already did.”
“That is not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
His anger faded.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter from my mother.
Caroline,
If you are reading this, I failed to tell you the truth while I still had the courage.
The company is not your legacy.
Your sisters are.
Protect them from what money will make them believe they need to become.
There was another page.
Numbers.
An account.
A safety deposit box.
And a key.
Dad recognized the bank.
We went there under police escort.
The box contained audio tapes.
Financial ledgers.
Original trust documents.
And one sealed letter addressed to Douglas.
Dad opened it.
His hands trembled.
After reading three lines, he sat down.
“What?”
He handed me the letter.
Douglas,
I know you changed my medication.
I know why.
But Thomas gave the order.
My stomach dropped.
Dad covered his face.
Juliette stared at him.
“You changed Mom’s medication?”
He began crying.
“I thought I was helping her.”
“What did you do?”
“Thomas told me the doctors were giving her something that would accelerate the cancer.”
Marcus frowned.
“So you switched it?”
Dad nodded.
“With medication supplied through Vale’s foundation.”
I understood.
“You thought you were saving her.”
“I thought I was.”
His voice broke.
“I may have killed her.”
Juliette began sobbing.
For once, I had no accusation.
Only horror.
Then Marcus picked up one of the audio cassettes.
May you like
A label had been written across it.
THE NIGHT OF THE FIRE.
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