Chapter 4 - The Ledger and the Child
The black SUV cut through the downtown traffic with reckless disregard for the lights, but I barely noticed. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles had turned white.
Maya hadn't just appeared at Sophie’s school by coincidence. She hadn't stumbled upon my daughter because of a shared struggle with long division. Every move she had made over the past month was calculated, deliberate, and directed toward a single, terrifying objective: getting close to the heir of the Harrison estate.
When I slammed my car to a halt outside our home on Lake Shore Drive, the iron gates stood wide open.
The front door of the house was unlocked.
"Sophie!" I called out, bursting into the foyer. The high ceilings echoed back my own voice, bouncing off the polished marble floors. The house was dead silent, save for the grandfather clock ticking steadily in the corner.
There was no sign of struggle. No broken glass. No overturned furniture. Just an eerie, heavy quiet that felt entirely wrong for a Tuesday afternoon.
I hurried down the central hallway toward the back conservatory—the glass-enclosed sunroom where Sophie liked to draw.
The door was ajar. Through the gap, I saw two figures sitting at the low wicker table where Sophie usually did her homework.
Maya was sitting in the wooden chair, calmly shuffling a deck of worn flashcards. Sophie sat opposite her, holding a red crayon, her brow furrowed in concentration.
They looked like two ordinary kids hanging out after school. Except for the man standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the garden.
He was wearing an expensive, tailored charcoal suit that looked entirely out of place in our sunroom. As I pushed the door open, he turned around.
It was Richard Vance—Arthur’s son, and the senior legal counsel for our firm’s primary holding company.
"Daniel," Richard said smoothly, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets with an easy, rehearsed casualness. "I was wondering when you'd figure out the math."
Sophie looked up, her eyes wide. "Dad? Maya said we were playing a game."
"Go inside, Soph," I said, keeping my voice carefully level, though every muscle in my body was coiled for movement. I stepped between Richard and my daughter. "Go to the kitchen and wait for Mrs. Gable."
Sophie hesitated, looking from me to Maya. Maya didn't look at her; she just gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Sophie dropped her crayon and slipped out through the side door without a word.
Once the door clicked shut, I turned my full attention to Richard.
"What is he doing here, Maya?" I asked, not breaking eye contact with the lawyer.
Maya stood up slowly, stepping back toward the glass. She didn't look like a homeless teenager anymore. She looked like an operative who had successfully completed the first phase of an infiltration.
"Richard didn't find us, Daniel," Maya said, her voice completely devoid of the warmth she had shown Sophie on the sidewalk. "I called him."
Richard smiled, a thin, humourless expression that didn't reach his eyes. "Your father-in-law was a brilliant man, but he made one fatal mistake before he died. He tried to leave a paper trail. People like us don't leave paper trails unless we want someone to follow them."
"You set this up," I said. "The notebooks, the school, the math problems—all of it."
"Not all of it," Richard corrected, walking slowly toward the table. "Maya actually did teach your daughter long division. She's remarkably good at math. Runs in the family, you see."
He stopped three feet away from me, his expression hardening.
"Your firm is insolvent, Daniel. Every asset, every property, every dollar in your personal portfolio is legally tied to the stolen municipal trust. And as of forty-eight minutes ago, our board filed a motion to freeze all accounts pending an emergency federal audit."
Richard paused, letting the weight of the words settle over the room.
May you like
"Which means by tomorrow morning, you won't just be ruined. You'll be the primary suspect in a multi-million-dollar embezzlement scheme designed to cover up your late wife's murder."
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