I walked to the security console and pressed the intercom.
“Ryan.”
He looked toward the camera.
“I know you can hear me.”
His shoulders lifted slightly.
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
“Then talk.”
“Not through a speaker.”
I glanced at Thomas.
He gave a small shake of his head.
I ignored the gesture.
“You want me to come to the warehouse.”
“Yes.”
“You have something that belongs to my family.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“I have something your father hid.”
“Then bring it here.”
He stared at the camera.
“You know I can't.”
“You can.”
“Vivian will—”
He stopped himself.
That single unfinished sentence told me more than he intended.
I looked at Thomas.
His expression had hardened.
“Who is Vivian threatening?” I asked.
Ryan said nothing.
“Is she threatening you?”
Still nothing.
“Or is she threatening Samuel?”
Ryan's face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“You know where Samuel is.”
He looked away.
“Ryan.”
He finally returned his eyes to the camera.
“I know what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can't.”
“You can, but you're afraid.”
His voice dropped.
“You don't understand what you're dealing with.”
“No. I understand exactly what I'm dealing with.”
I pointed toward the house.
“My mother was hurt in my kitchen. My children were frightened. You knew about it. You did nothing.”
He swallowed.
“I never wanted that.”
“But you allowed it.”
“I thought I could control her.”
“Vivian?”
He nodded.
“She always had a way of making everything look reasonable.”
I almost laughed.
“She forced my sick mother to cook while holding my crying children.”
“I know.”
“You watched.”
“I was trying to keep the peace.”
“No. You were protecting yourself.”
He looked down.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I said, “Bring the case.”
“What?”
“The black case.”
“You said you wouldn't meet me at the warehouse.”
“I won't.”
“Then where?”
“Here.”
Ryan looked at the mansion.
“You're serious?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“Vivian will know.”
“Let her.”
He shook his head.
“You don't know what she is capable of.”
I felt my mother's hand touch my shoulder.
“She already hurt Mom,” I said. “There isn't much left for her to frighten me with.”
Ryan looked toward the gate.
“I need an hour.”
“You have thirty minutes.”
He almost smiled.
“You always were stubborn.”
“No. I was trusting.”
His expression fell.
“And I won't make that mistake again.”
The call ended.
Thomas immediately turned toward me.
“That was dangerous.”
“So was letting him leave with evidence.”
“You don't know whether the case contains evidence.”
“I know he wants me to believe it does.”
Thomas studied me.
“You're thinking like your father.”
I looked at the photograph on the table.
“I never knew him well enough to know what that meant.”
“You knew enough.”
He closed the folder.
“We need to prepare.”
The next thirty minutes passed slowly.
Security locked every external door.
The police were notified that Ryan was returning.
My attorney arranged for a witness to be present.
My mother stayed upstairs with the children.
I remained in the study with Thomas.
He placed the photograph of Samuel beside my father's note.
“There is something bothering me,” he said.
“What?”
“The message Ryan sent about your trust.”
“You think he knew about it?”
“I think Vivian knew.”
“How?”
Thomas tapped the folder.
“Your father kept records because he suspected someone inside his company was passing information.”
“Samuel?”
“No.”
He turned another page.
“Someone with access to the family.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
“Could it have been Ryan?”
“Not when those records were created.”
“Then who?”
Thomas looked at me.
“That's what we haven't found.”
A car appeared on the security camera.
Ryan.
He parked outside the gate.
He stepped out carrying the black case.
My pulse quickened.
Behind him, another vehicle stopped farther down the road.
Thomas noticed it too.
“Is that police?”
“No.”
The second car remained dark.
Ryan looked toward it.
Then toward the mansion.
He knew.
I pressed the intercom.
“Come to the gate alone.”
Ryan approached.
The gate opened.
He walked through.
The moment it closed behind him, the second vehicle accelerated away.
Thomas watched it disappear.
“Someone was following him.”
Ryan entered the foyer.
He looked older than he had the previous afternoon.
He placed the black case on the table.
My eyes remained on his hands.
“Open it.”
He didn't move.
“You should hear me first.”
“No.”
“Sabrina—”
“Open it.”
He unlocked the case.
Inside was a stack of documents, a small recorder, and an envelope sealed with red wax.
My breath caught.
Thomas stepped closer.
“That seal belonged to your father.”
Ryan nodded.
“He gave this to me.”
I stared at him.
“My father died years ago.”
“I know.”
“How could he give you anything?”
“He didn't.”
Ryan looked at the envelope.
“Vivian gave it to me.”
The room went silent.
Thomas picked up the envelope.
He turned it over.
The seal was cracked.
“Why would she give you your father's documents?”
Ryan sat down.
“Because she thought I would use them against you.”
My voice became quiet.
“What did she promise you?”
He looked at me.
“Enough money to start over.”
“You were going to help her take my trust.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than denial would have.
“How long?”
“Years.”
My mother appeared at the staircase.
She had heard him.
Ryan looked at her.
“I never wanted her hurt.”
My mother stared at him.
“You watched.”
“I know.”
“You told me to keep quiet.”
“I know.”
“You pushed me.”
Ryan closed his eyes.
“I know.”
My mother gripped the railing.
Then she turned away.
I felt something inside me settle.
Whatever remained of our marriage had ended there.
Not with shouting.
Not with a slammed door.
With the simple weight of the truth.
Thomas opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note.
His expression changed as he read it.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
The handwriting was my father's.
Vivian does not possess the original document. She believes Samuel took it. He did not.
I read the next line.
Margaret knows where it is.
I looked at my mother.
She was crying.
“Mom?”
She shook her head.
“I didn't know.”
The final line made my hands go cold.
If anything happens to me, the original must never be given to Vivian.
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“Where did you get this?”
“Vivian.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
I stared at him.
“You've known for three weeks?”
“I was trying to figure out what she wanted.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was scared.”
“You were protecting yourself.”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly.
“At least you're finally telling the truth.”
Ryan reached into his pocket.
He removed a small key.
“This came with the case.”
Thomas took it.
Stamped into the metal was a number.
117.
He looked at me.
“There is one place your father used this kind of key.”
“Where?”
“The old company archive.”
I looked toward the dark window.
The answer had been sitting in front of us.
My father's records.
The missing document.
Samuel's disappearance.
Vivian's obsession.
And now this key.
We had somewhere to go.
But before I could speak, every light in the mansion went out.
The security system died.
A second later, glass shattered upstairs.
My mother screamed.
I ran toward the staircase.
Thomas grabbed my arm.
“Stay down!”
A shadow moved across the hallway.
Then another sound came from the children's room.
The lock clicked.
Someone was inside.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: When the Lights Went Out, Someone Reached the Children’s Room Before We Could, and the Key in My Hand Suddenly Became More Valuable Than Money
I Came Home Before Anyone Expected Me, and the First Thing I Heard Was My Mother Being Ordered Back to the Kitchen
Part 5 of 12
