Chapter 10 - WHAT THOMAS SAID
Thomas spoke first.
He looked older than Emily had ever seen him.
Not powerful.
Not persuasive.
Just tired.
“I should have stopped it years ago,” he said.
Emily said nothing.
“I told myself I was protecting payroll. Protecting the company. Protecting your future. Protecting your mother from collapse. Weak men always make a list.”
He admitted it all in plain language.
He had known Valerie was pushing the trust beyond its limits.
He had allowed forged signatures to continue.
He had looked away when the fraud became expensive to undo.
And yes—he had accelerated the police stop because he believed Valerie would move the car again if he waited.
“Did you think that made you better?” Emily asked quietly.
“No.”
“Did you think it made you a protector?”
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
Thomas held her gaze.
“Because it’s the ugliest honest thing I have left.”
That answer hurt because it sounded true.
He did not ask forgiveness.
He did not claim love as defense.
He only admitted that by the time he tried to control the damage, the damage was already a weapon.
When he was led out, Emily felt no relief.
May you like
Only emptiness.
Because weakness, she realized, can destroy people just as efficiently as ambition.
