Chapter 8
Rebecca looked at her gently.
“There were others too. Before Claire. Women Ethan dated. Women paid to disappear. But Claire married him, so she saw more.”
“Saw what?” I asked.
Rebecca swallowed.
“The family didn’t just protect Ethan. They used him.”
The room went still.
Rebecca continued. “Prescott Holdings hosted private retreats. Politicians. judges, donors, executives. Claire said people were recorded there. Compromised. Controlled. She said Margaret kept files on everyone.”
Nadine’s eyes sharpened.
“What kind of files?”
“Videos. Documents. Payments. Threats.”
Jonah leaned forward.
“Where?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Claire didn’t know. But she said there was a room under the old Prescott estate. Not the main house. The hunting lodge.”
Emily’s breathing changed.
I turned to her.
“What is it?”
She stared at the table, face white.
“I’ve been there.”
No one spoke.
Emily’s voice trembled.
“Last month. Margaret said I needed to learn what it meant to be part of the family. She took me to the lodge.”
“What did you see?” Nadine asked carefully.
Emily’s eyes lifted to mine.
“A green door. Downstairs. Ethan got angry when I looked at it. Margaret told him I wasn’t ready.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Oh God.”
Then all the lights went out.
The hospital fell into sudden darkness.
For half a second, there was only silence.
Then emergency lights snapped on, red and dim, washing the room in the color of blood.
Somewhere down the hall, someone shouted.
A monitor began beeping.
Jonah was already on his feet.
“Move.”
I grabbed Emily.
Nadine gathered the envelope and flash drive.
Rebecca stumbled after us.
When we reached the hallway, nurses were moving quickly, confused but controlled. The power failure had triggered emergency systems, but the elevators were dead.
At the far end of the corridor, near the stairwell, stood Ethan Prescott.
He should not have been there.
Not past security.
Not after being removed.
Not smiling like that.
Emily made a small sound.
I stepped in front of her.
Ethan lifted both hands slightly.
“Relax. I just want to talk to my wife.”
Jonah moved beside me.
“You need to leave.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked toward him. “Who are you?”
“The person standing between you and a felony.”
Ethan laughed.
Then two men in dark jackets appeared behind him.
Not hospital security.
Private.
Margaret’s men.
My hand went to my phone.
No signal.
Jonah noticed.
“Jammer,” he said under his breath.
The hallway behind us was suddenly too empty.
Too quiet.
Nadine leaned close to Emily. “Stay behind your mother.”
Ethan’s smile faded.
“Emily,” he called softly. “Come here.”
She shook her head.
His expression hardened.
“I said come here.”
Something changed in my daughter then.
Not completely.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
She stepped out from behind me, still pale, still bruised, still shaking.
And she looked at him.
“No.”
One word.
Small.
Barely louder than a breath.
But it struck him like a slap.
Ethan’s face twisted.
“You ungrateful little—”
He took one step forward.
So did I.
And that was when the stairwell door behind Ethan opened.
A dozen uniformed soldiers entered the hallway with military police behind them.
Lieutenant Colonel Dana Reeves walked at the front.
Calm.
Focused.
Furious.
Beside her was Senator Ruth Mallory.
And behind them, two federal agents.
Margaret Prescott emerged from the stairwell last.
But she was not smiling anymore.
Her hands were restrained in front of her.
Ethan stared at his mother.
“Mom?”
Margaret looked past him.
Straight at me.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
Senator Mallory stepped into the red emergency light.
“Colonel Hart,” she said, “your call created quite a stir.”
One of the federal agents approached Ethan.
“Ethan Prescott, you need to come with us.”
Ethan backed away.
“No. No, you don’t understand. This is a family matter.”
The agent took his arm.
“Not anymore.”
As they restrained him, Ethan looked at Emily.
The hatred in his face was naked now.
“You think this is over?” he hissed. “You have no idea what she has.”
Margaret suddenly screamed.
“Ethan, shut up!”
Everyone froze.
Even Ethan.
His mother’s panic filled the hallway.
Too late.
Far too late.
Jonah looked at me.
Nadine looked at the flash drive in her hand.
Emily whispered, “What does he mean?”
Before anyone could answer, Rebecca’s phone buzzed.
Somehow, through the interference, one message had arrived.
Unknown sender.
No text.
Just a photograph.
Rebecca opened it.
Her face drained of all color.
She turned the screen toward us.
It showed the green door beneath the Prescott hunting lodge.
Wide open.
Inside was a wall of monitors, steel cabinets, and files.
And standing in the center of the room, looking directly into the camera, was a man Emily recognized.
A man the entire country would recognize.
The governor of North Carolina.
Then another message appeared.
This one had only five words.
CLAIRE WAS NOT THE FIRST.
Emily looked at me.
May you like
The emergency lights flickered overhead.
And somewhere far below us, the hospital alarm began to wail.
