Chapter 4 - Apartment 18C.
Mercer Tower had twenty-two floors, but Claire had never heard anyone in the family mention Apartment 18C.
The building directory listed 18C under the name Northline Holdings.
Rachel found that detail in less than a minute.
Claire stared at the screen.
"Northline again."
"Yes."
"Daniel told me Northline Advisory was an outside consultant."
"And apparently Northline Holdings owns an apartment in his family's building."
Claire leaned back against the hospital bed.
"I married a man who thinks naming everything Northline counts as hiding it."
Rachel almost smiled.
Then she became serious again.
"We need legal access, not a midnight adventure."
Claire knew she was right.
She also knew Martin had removed the blue folder within minutes of police entering the apartment.
By morning, every document in 18C could be gone.
"Can the police secure it?"
"Maybe, if we give them enough to establish that it may contain evidence."
Claire forwarded the corporate filing, Sophie's draft, and the video.
Rachel called the officer who had taken Claire's statement.
While Rachel spoke in the hallway, Claire received another message from Daniel.
Please don't do anything you'll regret.
Claire stared at it.
Then she typed back.
Like trust you?
The typing indicator appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally, Daniel sent a longer message.
My dad is not who you think he is.
I was trying to manage him.
I made a terrible decision, but if you turn this into a war, he will burn everything around us.
Claire read the words twice.
There it was again.
A warning disguised as concern.
She sent one response.
He already tried.
Then she blocked Daniel's number.
Rachel returned.
"The detective wants to speak with Sophie directly before requesting anything for 18C."
"We can't find Sophie."
"Exactly."
Claire looked at the brass key Elaine had left behind.
"What if Elaine can verify the apartment?"
Rachel sighed.
"Call her."
Elaine answered on the first ring.
Claire put the phone on speaker.
"What is 18C?"
Silence.
Then Elaine said, "Where did you hear that?"
"Sophie."
Another silence.
"Elaine, what is it?"
"Martin's private office."
"Why isn't it in the company records?"
"Because he doesn't consider it company property."
Rachel leaned toward the phone.
"Does Daniel use it?"
Elaine hesitated.
"Sometimes."
Claire closed her eyes.
"Is there a safe?"
"Yes."
"Does this key open it?"
Elaine's breathing changed.
"Claire, do not go there."
"Does it?"
"The key opens the apartment."
"And the safe?"
"The safe uses a code."
Rachel asked, "Do you know the code?"
Elaine whispered, "I used to."
Claire sat forward.
"What changed?"
"Martin changed it after he found me looking at the Northline files."
The room went quiet.
"You knew about Northline?" Claire asked.
"I knew money was moving somewhere."
"Did you know Daniel was involved?"
Elaine did not answer quickly enough.
Claire ended the call.
She felt sick.
Rachel closed her laptop.
"You're staying somewhere else tonight."
"I can't go home."
"You aren't going home."
Rachel arranged for Claire to stay at a hotel under a different name after the hospital discharged her.
The medical team advised rest and follow-up care, and Claire promised to return immediately if anything changed.
By 1:15 a.m., she was sitting on a hotel bed with a paper cup of tea she had not touched.
Rachel had gone downstairs to meet the detective.
Claire's phone displayed dozens of missed calls from unknown numbers.
Then a familiar email address appeared.
Daniel.
He had sent a single photograph.
It showed the blue folder lying open on a dark wooden desk.
Under it was a handwritten note.
CALL OFF THE POLICE.
COME HOME.
WE FIX THIS AS A FAMILY.
Claire zoomed in.
In the corner of the photograph, partly hidden beneath the folder, sat a metal safe.
The wall behind it had a distinctive geometric pattern.
Claire remembered that pattern.
She had seen it once during a building renovation tour.
Apartment 18C.
Daniel had just confirmed everything.
Rachel returned ten minutes later with the detective.
Claire showed them the photograph.
The detective looked at it for several seconds.
"He sent this tonight?"
"Yes."
"After you reported the folder missing?"
"Yes."
The detective nodded slowly.
"That helps."
Claire's phone buzzed again.
This time, the message came from Sophie.
DON'T LET THEM OPEN THE SAFE WITHOUT YOU.
THERE'S SOMETHING IN THERE WITH YOUR MOTHER'S NAME ON IT.
May you like
Claire forgot how to breathe.
Her mother had been dead for eight years.
