Chapter 14 - Allison’s Secret
Allison Reed had worked for my father for eleven years.
She knew every account.
Every loan.
Every hidden expense.
And apparently, every secret.
Police recovered deleted files from her laptop.
She had copied my father’s financial records months earlier.
Why?
At first, investigators suspected she was stealing.
Then they found her journal.
Allison had discovered my father was using company funds to cover personal debts.
She confronted him privately.
He promised to stop.
He didn’t.
Then Marcus appeared.
Allison became frightened.
She began documenting everything.
The payments.
The private investigator.
The estate discussions.
The messages about Phase Two.
She was the person who broke into our home.
But not to threaten me.
She believed Grandmother’s letter might contain evidence that could protect me.
She took it before Marcus could.
Then she panicked.
She did not know whether to trust police.
She left it with Ethan because she believed my cousin was the only family member who had not chosen a side.
The explanation was reckless.
Illegal.
But very different from what we feared.
Detective Greene eventually located Allison at her sister’s house.
She surrendered.
Then she handed police a flash drive.
That drive contained the evidence my father had been trying to hide.
Hundreds of emails.
Bank records.
Recorded conversations.
One recording changed the entire case.
My father and Marcus were speaking in my father’s office.
The date was two weeks before the backyard attack.
My father sounded exhausted.
Marcus sounded calm.
“You need leverage.”
“I need her signature.”
“She won’t sign because you ask nicely.”
“I’m not asking you to hurt my daughter.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what?”
“Fear works better when people believe the danger is close.”
My father was silent.
Then he said something I will never forget.
“Scare her.”
Marcus answered.
“How far?”
My father paused.
“Far enough that she chooses family over that trust.”
There it was.
No misunderstanding.
No innocent payment.
My father had knowingly ordered intimidation.
He may not have ordered physical injury.
But he had invited danger into my life.
The prosecutor added charges.
My father remained in custody.
My mother’s lawyer began discussing a plea.
Vanessa’s attorney did the same.
For the first time, the people who had spent years telling me family loyalty mattered were each trying to save themselves.
Ryan expected that to make me happy.
It didn’t.
I mostly felt tired.
One evening, I stood in our daughter’s unfinished nursery.
The crib was still in its box.
Paint samples covered the wall.
Ryan stood behind me.
“What color?”
I looked at the soft yellow sample.
“That one.”
He smiled.
“Yellow?”
“Something warm.”
He wrapped an arm carefully around me.
Our daughter kicked.
Strong this time.
Ryan laughed softly.
Then my phone rang.
Thomas Harlan.
His voice was tense.
“Claire, your father filed something before his arrest.”
“What?”
“A petition challenging Eleanor’s trust.”
“When?”
“The morning after the backyard incident.”
My stomach tightened.
“On what grounds?”
Thomas paused.
“He claims your grandmother was mentally incompetent.”
I felt anger rise for the first time in days.
“He’s still trying to take it.”
“Yes.”
I looked toward the crib.
May you like
Then at Ryan.
“Then we fight.”
