Chapter 4 - THE STORY ADRIAN INVENTED
Adrian’s version of Caleb’s death was neat.
Too neat.
That alone made Grace suspicious.
He claimed Morgan Coastal Supply was on the verge of collapse because Grace had been cooking numbers to cover losses. He claimed Caleb discovered it accidentally. He claimed Grace, desperate, sent Caleb to the warehouse to destroy files before auditors arrived. He claimed Caleb died because he obeyed her.
It was a clean tragedy with one villain.
Grace.
Claire sat rigidly near the sofa, staring at the floor.
Grace kept her face turned slightly away, the better to watch Claire’s hands when Adrian wasn’t looking.
They were clasped too tightly.
Knuckles white.
A trapped person’s hands.
Not a hater’s.
Adrian continued.
“I told her everything after you stopped cooperating with the police.”
Grace’s eyes snapped toward him.
“What?”
He smiled.
“The missing laptop. The deleted invoices. The transfers.”
Grace’s brain shifted gears.
Missing laptop.
Deleted invoices.
Transfers.
Those were real.
But they weren’t hers.
Three weeks before Caleb died, Grace had discovered irregular vendor payments tied to a subsidiary Robert once managed. She and Caleb had argued—not because he accused her, but because he was helping her trace the trail and wanted to handle it himself. He was smart, reckless, furious in the way only grieving teenage boys could be after losing a father too young.
Grace had tried to stop him from digging deeper.
Not because she was guilty.
Because she was afraid.
Then Adrian leaned back and said, “I showed Claire the messages.”
Grace understood immediately.
He had shown her the texts between Grace and Caleb.
Find the files.
Don’t tell anyone yet.
We need proof before tomorrow.
Be careful.
Out of context, they could look damning.
In context, they meant:
Find evidence of fraud.
Don’t alert whoever is stealing from the company.
We need proof before the board meeting.
Grace had almost brought that concern to Adrian himself.
She used to trust him that much.
Claire suddenly looked at Grace.
Only one second.
But it was enough.
She was listening now.
Not fully convinced.
Not yet free.
But listening.
Grace spoke slowly.
“Claire. Your brother was helping me.”
“Liar!”
The word came fast, almost reflexively.
Adrian nodded approval.
Grace kept going.
“The files weren’t about me. They were about the company.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
Adrian stood.
“I think that’s enough.”
Because he didn’t want more.
That meant Grace had landed close to something real.
Then Claire did something tiny and brilliant.
She kicked a loose rug corner while pretending to pace in anger.
The rug shifted.
Underneath it, near the stone fireplace, Grace saw the edge of a metal hatch built into the cabin floor.
Adrian didn’t notice.
But Grace did.
And so did Claire.
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The keys weren’t for the back door.
They were for whatever was under the floor.
