CHAPTER 13: THE PRISON MANDATE

CHAPTER 13: THE PRISON MANDATE
The visitation room at the maximum-security facility was freezing.
A thick pane of reinforced glass separated me from the man who had spent my entire life teaching me that I was never enough. He wore an orange jumpsuit, his hair messy, his hands liver-spotted and frail.
But when he picked up the gray telephone receiver, the old, arrogant light was still dancing in his eyes.
âYou look tired, Evelyn,â he sneered through the static.
âDid Marcus Sterling find your little paradise in the woods?â
I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles turned entirely white.
âYou gave him the coordinates,â I said, my voice dropping into a deadly whisper.
He let out a dry, rattling laugh that made my stomach twist.
âMarcus has connections on the state rehabilitation board,â he confessed.
âHe promised to fast-track my medical leave appeal,â he explained.
âAll he wanted in exchange was the location of your grandfatherâs deep corporate archive,â he revealed.
âThe ledger books you used to humiliate me in that courtroom.â
I leaned closer to the glass, my breathing controlled, my expression turning entirely to stone.
âThose files are already in the hands of the federal prosecutors, Dad,â I said.
âMarcus Sterling can't save you from a federal grand jury.â
The smile instantly vanished from his ruined face.
âHe doesn't want to save me, Evelyn,â he whispered, his eyes widening with a sudden, genuine panic.
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âHe wants to destroy the evidence before they raid his offices.â
âAnd you are sitting right on top of the vault.â