Chapter 5 - The House Divided
All eyes in the study slowly turned toward Clara.
She stepped back, her face turning chalk-white as Marcus’s hand instinctively drifted toward the heavy automatic pistol holstered beneath his left armpit.
“I didn't do it,” Clara breathed, her voice trembling with sudden terror. “I swear to God, I don't know anything about holding accounts or federal subpoenas!”
“She spends hours cleaning your private office every morning, Bennett,” Marcus said, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Clara. “She’s the only one with access to your desk while you’re downstairs.”
“She’s my sister,” I snapped, stepping between Marcus and Clara with a protective fury I didn't entirely understand myself.
“She’s a stranger with a vendetta against your father,” Marcus argued, taking a step forward. “And now the feds are closing in because of a file only someone inside these walls could have accessed.”
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Mother pulled herself upright in her wheelchair, her expression hardening into absolute steel. “Touch her, Marcus, and you answer to me.”
The tension in the study reached a boiling point, the air thick with suspicion, betrayal, and impending violence. I looked down at Clara, who was staring back at me with absolute despair in her eyes, wondering if the girl who had shaved my mother’s head was also the executioner who had just signed our death warrant.
