Chapter 2 - The Name My Father Feared
My father grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward the library before the guests could surround us.
"Not here," he said.
I ripped my arm free.
"That's exactly what Daniel said."
He shut the library doors.
Outside, the quartet had stopped playing. Voices moved through the garden in low, excited waves.
"Why did you hire Adrian Vale?" Dad asked.
"To audit Daniel's projects."
His jaw tightened.
"Without telling me?"
"I stopped telling you things when every concern I raised became stress, grief, or something I should discuss with my therapist."
That landed.
For two years, everyone in my family had treated me like glass after my miscarriage and the panic attacks that followed.
Daniel had been the most convincing.
He attended appointments. Held my hand. Told everyone I needed patience.
Now I wondered how much of that patience had been preparation.
I unlocked my phone and showed Dad Adrian's final message.
IF I MISS TOMORROW'S MEETING, DO NOT TRUST DANIEL.
Below it was another line I had read a hundred times.
AND DO NOT ASSUME YOUR FATHER IS CLEAN.
Dad sat down.
"When did he send this?"
"Eleven days ago. He disappeared the next morning."
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
"Mara, you should have told me."
"Tell me what? That the investigator I hired vanished? Or that he thought you were involved?"
The library door opened.
Our security director, Tessa Ward, stepped inside.
"Mr. Whitmore, we have a problem."
She placed a tablet on the desk.
The camera feed covering the conservatory had been erased from 3:12 p.m. to 4:06 p.m.
Exactly the period when Daniel locked me in the cage.
"Who has permission to delete security footage?" I asked.
Tessa looked at my father.
"Three people. Me, Mr. Whitmore... and Daniel Cross."
Dad stood.
"Find Daniel."
Tessa's expression did not change.
"We already tried."
"Where is he?"
She turned the tablet toward us.
May you like
Daniel's car had left through the service gate six minutes earlier.
And he had taken my laptop with him.
