Chapter 8
A sob slipped through.
“I knew he copied some file names. That’s all. He said you were unstable and someone needed to make sure Daniel’s work didn’t vanish with you.”
I almost closed my eyes.
There it was.
Not hatred.
Not even greed at first.
Just the casual belief that I was too broken to own what belonged to me.
“What file names?” I asked.
“I don’t remember.”
“Chloe.”
She started crying harder.
“One was Orion. One was Karsen. One was… I don’t know… Black Harbor? Black something.”
The conference room vanished.
Black Harbor.
Daniel’s letter had not mentioned it.
But one of his notebook pages had.
A small notation in the margin.
BH relay anomaly.
“Who told Ryan those names mattered?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Chloe.”
“I swear I don’t know. He had calls. He took them outside. He said it was a consulting opportunity.”
I looked through the glass.
At the far end of the boardroom table sat a man I had not yet met.
Silver hair. Navy suit. Calm hands.
The CEO of Stratix Defense Systems.
Victor Lang.
He was laughing softly at something one of the lawyers said.
Then he looked up.
Through the glass.
Directly at me.
My skin prickled.
Chloe whispered, “Maya, please help me.”
I watched Victor Lang’s smile fade by one controlled degree.
“Tell the truth to the investigators,” I said.
Then I ended the call.
A woman in a charcoal suit opened the conference room door.
“Mrs. Carter? They’re ready for you.”
I stood.
For one moment, I rested both hands on my stomach.
My daughter kicked hard, as if impatient.
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m going.”
Inside the boardroom, everyone rose.
The gesture should have felt respectful.
Instead, it felt strategic.
Victor Lang approached first.
“Maya Carter,” he said warmly. “On behalf of Stratix, welcome. Daniel spoke of you with extraordinary admiration.”
His handshake was firm.
His eyes were empty.
“Did he?” I asked.
“Frequently.”
That was a lie.
Daniel had never liked executives. He said too many of them wore patriotism like a necktie—visible, decorative, removable.
Victor gestured to the chair at the head of the table.
“Please.”
I sat.
Not because he offered.
Because it was mine now.
A lawyer began reviewing my role, the acquisition terms, the Department oversight structure, and the immediate development timeline. Words passed around me like polished stones.
Equity.
Compliance.
Security.
Transition.
National interest.
I listened.
Then I opened Daniel’s notebook and placed it on the table.
The room quieted.
Victor’s eyes dropped to it.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Recognition.
Not curiosity.
Recognition.
I touched the page with the Black Harbor notation.
“I want full access to archived executive development environments,” I said.
The lawyer blinked.
“That can be arranged through proper channels.”
“Today.”
Victor smiled.
“Mrs. Carter, I understand your eagerness, but certain archives involve sensitive compartmentalized projects. Even as CTO, your access must be phased.”
I looked at him.
“Orion detected a matching hostile interference signature inside Stratix-controlled systems.”
No one moved.
Colonel Hayes, standing behind me near the wall, said nothing.
Victor’s smile remained.
But his hands changed.
One finger tapped once against his cuff.
“That is a serious claim,” he said.
“It is a serious system.”
A board member leaned forward.
“Are you suggesting Stratix personnel were involved in compromising military communications?”
“I’m saying my husband suspected internal interference before he died,” I replied. “And I’m saying the platform you bought from me found a matching signature here.”
The room erupted.
Controlled voices.
Legal objections.
Demands for procedure.
Victor lifted one hand.
Silence returned.
He looked at me with something almost like admiration.
“You are very much Daniel’s wife.”
“No,” I said. “Daniel was very much my husband.”
His expression hardened at the edges.
Then the lights went out.
For half a second, the boardroom plunged into darkness.
Emergency lights flashed red.
A security alarm began to pulse through the building.
Colonel Hayes moved before anyone else.
“Mrs. Carter, away from the glass.”
The windows exploded inward.
Not all of them.
Just the panel behind Victor Lang.
A small black object struck the table, rolled once, and hissed.
Smoke filled the room.
People screamed.
Hands grabbed me—not rough, but urgent. Colonel Hayes pulled me down behind the conference table as soldiers flooded in from the hallway.
Through the smoke, I saw Victor Lang standing perfectly still.
Too still.
Not frightened.
Not surprised.
He looked through the chaos and found me.
Then he mouthed two words.
Not over.
The soldiers dragged him back.
Or tried to.
Because in the next instant, Victor pressed something beneath his watch.
The conference screen at the front of the room flickered on.
Static.
Then Daniel’s face appeared.
My Daniel.
Alive in a recorded video, sitting in what looked like a military transport, helmet resting beside him, exhaustion carved into his features.
The room froze around me.
Daniel looked into the camera.
“If Maya is seeing this,” he said, “then Black Harbor has reached her.”
My heart stopped.
The screen glitched.
Daniel leaned closer.
“Maya, don’t trust Stratix.”
The feed cut to black.
May you like
Then every locked door in the boardroom opened at once.
And somewhere deep inside the building, Orion began to scream.
