Chapter 16 - The Deposition Table
Forty-eight hours later, the steady, rhythmic beep of a fetal heart monitor echoed through the private recovery suite at Fort Belvoir Community Hospital.
I lay propped up against the pillows, an IV line taped securely to the back of my hand, watching the rhythmic green peaks on the monitor screen. Beside the bed sat my father, General Arthur Vance. His four-star service dress was immaculate, but his eyes were filled with the tender, fierce protectiveness of a father who had almost lost his only child twice in one week.
"She's strong, Claire," Dad said softly, nodding toward the monitor. "Doctor said the stress triggered premature Braxton-Hicks contractions, but the cervix remained closed. The baby is healthy. Heart rate is 148 beats per minute. Solid as an artillery battery."
I let out a breath of immense relief, my fingers gently tracing the contours of my belly. "Thank God."
David walked in from the adjoining waiting room carrying two cups of tea. He looked like he hadn't slept in two days, but the pure relief in his eyes when he saw me smiling was palpable. He set the tea down and immediately kissed my forehead.
"David," Dad said, his deep voice carrying a tone that demanded immediate attention.
David straightened up, facing my father. "Yes, General?"
"Drop the rank, son," Dad said, standing up and extending his hand. "You stood by my daughter when your family tried to tear her down. You chose what was right over what was easy. In my book, that makes you a Vance."
David took my father’s hand, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank you, sir. Arthur."
A sharp knock at the door broke the moment. Major Thomas from the JAG Special Prosecution team entered, carrying a secure tablet.
"General. Colonel Vance. We have the deposition transcript from Megan Sterling’s formal interview at the detention center," Major Thomas reported. "She broke."
"What did she say?" I asked, sitting up slightly.
"Under questioning by federal prosecutors regarding the balcony incident, she confessed that she had coordinated with her mother beforehand," Major Thomas said, handing me the tablet. "They believed that if Claire suffered a miscarriage or severe hypothermia, David would be forced to take extended leave and relinquish corporate voting rights at Sterling Logistics. Eleanor intended to take control of the company's shipping hubs in Norfolk to hide the offshore accounts Harold had set up in the Cayman Islands."
"It was an assassination attempt," David said, his voice cold with absolute fury. "Not just against Claire, but against our child. For shipping contracts."
"Eleanor was arrested two hours ago at Dulles International Airport trying to board a flight to Zurich," Major Thomas added. "Federal marshals took her into custody at the boarding gate. She is being charged with attempted second-degree murder, conspiracy, and federal money laundering."
I looked at the tablet screen, reading Megan's signed confession. The arrogant sister-in-law who had locked the door, sneered through the glass, and told me I was 'worthless white trash pretending to matter' was now facing twenty years in a federal penitentiary.
The justice was absolute. But as I scrolled to the final page of the deposition, my eyes caught a single redacted line that Major Thomas hadn't mentioned.
May you like
"Major," I called out, my voice sharp and commanding. "Why is paragraph twenty-four blacked out?"
***
