Dylan placed the flash drive on the kitchen table.
Nobody touched it.
Dad stared at the tiny black rectangle as though it might explode.
Mom looked at me.
“What is on it?”
“Proof,” Dylan said.
“Proof of what?”
He swallowed.
“That I didn't come up with all of this myself.”
I looked at him carefully.
“You're saying someone else helped you?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
He glanced toward Dad.
Then toward Mom.
Finally, he looked directly at me.
“Rebecca.”
The name hit harder than I expected.
For several seconds, I couldn't process it.
“Rebecca Shaw?”
Dylan nodded.
“No.”
The answer came out before I could think.
He shook his head.
“I know what you're thinking.”
“You don't know what I'm thinking.”
“You trust her.”
“I do.”
“You shouldn't.”
I picked up the flash drive.
“Why would Rebecca help you?”
“I don't know.”
“That's not good enough.”
“I didn't know what she was doing at first.”
“You've already admitted taking documents from Northline.”
“I know.”
“Then explain everything.”
Dylan sat down.
He looked exhausted.
“I went to her because I needed help.”
“With what?”
“The money.”
I stared at him.
“Thirty-five thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I had debts.”
“What kind?”
“Personal debts.”
“Gambling?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Business?”
“Sort of.”
“Dylan.”
He looked away.
“I invested in something that went bad.”
“What?”
“A restaurant.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
He had put money into a restaurant venture with two friends. The restaurant had never opened, and the investors had begun demanding repayment.
“I thought I could recover it,” he said.
“So you tried to borrow money from Mercer.”
“Yes.”
“And when that failed?”
“I went to Rebecca.”
I couldn't understand.
“Why Rebecca?”
“Because she knew you.”
“That doesn't explain anything.”
“She told me you wouldn't help me.”
I froze.
“What?”
Dylan nodded.
“She said you would never lend me that kind of money.”
I felt the room grow colder.
“What exactly did she tell you?”
“That you had become impossible to deal with.”
I laughed once.
It wasn't amusement.
It was disbelief.
“Rebecca said that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
I looked at the flash drive.
“Play it.”
Dylan connected the drive to my laptop.
The first seconds contained muffled voices.
Then Rebecca's voice.
My hands went cold.
“You're asking for too much,” she said on the recording.
Dylan's voice followed.
“I need thirty-five.”
“You're not getting thirty-five from Mara.”
“I know.”
“Then stop asking.”
The recording continued.
I listened without moving.
Rebecca told Dylan that I had been distracted by family problems.
She told him that if he wanted access to certain documents, there were ways to get them without raising suspicion.
Dylan asked whether she was sure.
Rebecca answered that she knew exactly where the files were stored.
My stomach tightened.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
“She won't look closely at the family property records,” Rebecca said. “She's too emotionally involved.”
I stopped the recording.
Mom whispered, “Oh my God.”
Dad looked sick.
Dylan stared at the floor.
I pressed my palms against the table.
Rebecca had known.
She had known how much the property meant to me.
She had known I trusted her.
She had known I had spent years protecting my family.
And she had used that knowledge.
“Why?” I asked.
Dylan looked at me.
“She wanted something.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
“You've got to know.”
“She said she wanted control of Northline.”
I stared at him.
“Control?”
“She thought you were going to expand.”
That was true.
Rebecca and I had been discussing expansion for months.
We had received enough work to consider opening a second office.
She had wanted to move faster.
I had wanted to be careful.
She had complained that I was too cautious.
Suddenly, several conversations returned to me.
Her frustration.
Her questions about my family.
Her interest in the property.
Her insistence that I should let someone else handle the administrative side of the company.
At the time, none of it had seemed suspicious.
Now it did.
Dylan removed the drive.
“I didn't know she was going to alter anything.”
“Did she give you the deed?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
I stared at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I swear.”
Dad stood.
“Dylan, what else aren't you telling her?”
Dylan looked at him.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Dylan's face hardened.
“I already told her everything.”
“No,” I said. “You told me enough to make yourself look less responsible.”
He flinched.
That was probably fair.
I picked up my phone.
“I’m calling Daniel.”
Dylan reached toward me.
“Wait.”
I stepped back.
“Don't touch me.”
He stopped.
“I need to tell you something else.”
“What?”
“Rebecca wasn't the only person involved.”
My heart sank.
“Who?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know the name.”
“Then what do you know?”
“She met someone at a hotel.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Who was there?”
“I wasn't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she called me afterward.”
I stared at him.
“What did she say?”
“She said the person wanted the property information.”
“Why?”
“She said it was leverage.”
“For what?”
Dylan swallowed.
“For buying into Northline.”
The pieces were becoming uglier.
Someone wanted leverage over my company.
Rebecca had apparently been willing to provide it.
Dylan had been desperate for money.
Evan had accepted a thousand dollars.
And my family had unknowingly supplied the perfect distraction.
I called Daniel.
He answered immediately.
“Mara?”
“I need you to hear something.”
I put the phone on speaker.
Dylan played the recording again.
Daniel remained silent throughout.
When it ended, he said, “Do not contact Rebecca.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“We're preserving this.”
“What happens now?”
“We involve counsel.”
“And the police?”
“That depends on the complete evidence.”
I looked at Dylan.
He looked frightened.
For the first time, I realized something important.
He hadn't come to me because he had suddenly become honest.
He had come because the situation had become dangerous for him too.
That didn't make the evidence useless.
But it meant I couldn't confuse confession with redemption.
Daniel asked Dylan to send the original recording directly to his legal team.
Dylan agreed.
Before the call ended, Daniel said something that stayed with me.
“Mara, there is one thing you should know.”
“What?”
“Rebecca has already resigned.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
I looked at the clock.
She had known.
She had known we were closing in.
Daniel continued.
“She emptied her office and left the building.”
I stood.
“Did she take anything?”
“We're checking.”
I looked at Dylan.
“Where is she going?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Daniel said, “Don't try to find her yourself.”
The call ended.
Mom was crying.
Dad looked defeated.
Dylan stared at me.
“I know I hurt you.”
I said nothing.
“I know I messed up.”
Still nothing.
“But I didn't know how far she was going.”
I finally looked at him.
“You still chose to help her.”
His eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
“That matters.”
“I know.”
I picked up the flash drive.
The betrayal wasn't finished.
It had only finally shown its face.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: Rebecca Vanished Before We Could Question Her, Leaving Behind Missing Files, a Hidden Account, and One Final Piece of Evidence
I Came Home Expecting an Ordinary Tuesday and Found My Belongings Packed, My Family Waiting, and My Brother Already Celebrating My Departure
Part 9 of 12
