Chapter 11 - Plan B
“What does that mean?”
Owen leaned toward the glass.
“The plan was for Emma to stumble three steps. Claire was supposed to catch her.”
“She pushed my child as theater?”
“She wanted you to see it and explode.”
“But Emma fell.”
“Claire pushed too hard.”
I wanted to put my fist through the glass.
Instead I asked, “What’s Plan B?”
Owen looked toward the agent behind me.
“I want a deal.”
“You don’t negotiate with me.”
“Then tell them I cooperate.”
Owen continued.
“If the gala failed, Claire was supposed to use the protective order to take Emma for forty-eight hours.”
“Why?”
“To make you violate the order.”
I stared at him.
“She thought I’d take Emma anyway.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“You’d be arrested.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at me?”
The question destroyed me.
I sat beside her.
“Never.”
“I told Claire I saw the paper.”
“That was brave.”
“She said everything bad was because I wouldn’t listen.”
I leaned closer.
“No. Listen to me. Adults are responsible for what adults do. You do not carry that.”
Emma nodded, but children hear blame deeper than words.
I stayed until she slept.
Then Lena called.
Federal agents had opened my father’s notebook with both keys.
The hidden compartment contained a microSD card.
On it were scanned contracts, audio files, and one video recorded six years earlier.
My father.
Victor Lang.
Ben.
And Claire.
I stared at Lena.
“Claire?”
She nodded.
The date on the video was four years before I met her.
May you like
Claire had not married into my life by accident.
Victor had placed her there.
