Chapter 13 - EMILY’S FIRST ANSWER
Three weeks later Emily communicated through a switch device.
A tiny movement of her right index finger.
One press for yes.
Two for no.
Slow.
Exhausting.
Daniel sat beside her.
Dr. Shah asked the questions.
“Do you remember Riverstone?”
One press.
“Did you believe contamination was being hidden?”
One.
“Did Gregory Vale order you to falsify data?”
Two.
Daniel looked surprised.
Important distinction.
Vale pressured.
But did not directly order falsification.
“Did Howard Sloane threaten you?”
One.
“Did you know Caleb Dunn?”
Two.
“Did you see who touched your car?”
Two.
The case still required evidence.
Emily could confirm fear.
Not identify saboteur.
Then Dr. Shah asked:
“Did you hide copies of your research?”
One press.
Daniel leaned forward.
“Where?”
The device could not answer open questions.
They built letter selection over days.
Painfully slow.
Emily spelled:
G A R D E N
Daniel thought of the missing jars.
The shed.
They searched again.
Nothing.
Then Lily asked the obvious question adults missed.
“Which garden?”
Daniel stared.
Emily had two.
Community garden.
And home.
Before the accident, Emily maintained a narrow herb garden behind their house.
Daniel had abandoned it.
Couldn’t look at it.
He dug where Emily used to plant rosemary.
Six inches down, his shovel hit plastic.
A sealed container.
Inside:
A flash drive.
Printed lab reports.
Chain-of-custody sheets.
Photographs.
And Rebecca Carter’s original 1998 correspondence.
Emily had built a complete evidence package.
She had not trusted her employer.
She had not trusted cloud storage.
She trusted dirt.
The earth remembers.
Daniel finally understood what she meant.
Not magic.
Records.
May you like
Layers.
Things buried remained somewhere.
