Chapter 12 - Clara's Choice
My father opened the front door remotely.
Clara walked in with both hands visible.
"Let William go."
"You brought the tape?" Harold asked.
"And the copies."
Owen went upstairs to search her.
I shouted, "Clara, don't give him anything!"
She looked down the stairwell at me.
"I already gave him too much eighteen years ago."
My father studied her like a puzzle.
"Where's Lily?"
"Safe."
"Where's Eva?"
Her face went rigid.
"You say her name again and I burn every copy."
For the first time, my father looked impressed.
Owen returned with the wooden box and a flash drive.
Harold plugged the drive into a laptop.
A folder opened.
Scans of the original ledger.
Photos from Ashcroft.
Mercer's signatures.
My mother's statement.
"Where did you get all this?"
"Twelve years of guilt gives a person time to organize."
Then Clara said, "There's one more file."
Harold clicked it.
An audio recording began.
His own voice filled the room from our meeting minutes earlier.
I understood.
Clara had not brought the only copies.
She had brought a live-sync drive connected to a cloud account.
My father slammed the laptop shut.
"You stupid girl."
"Not a girl anymore."
Owen raised the gun toward her.
I stepped forward.
My father lifted a hand.
"No. We need her password."
Clara smiled without humor.
"You need more than that."
Outside, the house lights flickered.
Then died.
Owen swore.
In the darkness, something crashed upstairs.
A woman's voice shouted, "William!"
Lily.
My father went perfectly still.
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"I told her to stay away," I whispered.
Clara whispered back, "She never was good at doing what men told her."
