Chapter 3 - THE COMPLICITY OF FAMILY
Detective Luis Moreno sat across from Mara in a diner two days later.
He was a weary-looking man in his late forties with sharp, dark eyes and a worn leather jacket. He worked in the financial crimes unit of the city police department, but he also handled corporate fraud cases.
"Mrs. Hawthorne," Moreno began, stirring cream into his black coffee. "What you've shown me is compelling. But without original documents or official bank authorization, it's hard to secure a search warrant for an estate like Hawthorne House. Your family has a lot of political pull in this county."
"They aren't my family," Mara corrected firmly. "Not when it comes to this."
"Does your husband know you're talking to me?"
"No." Mara's voice cracked slightly. "If I tell him, he'll try to mediate. He'll go to his mother and sister and try to fix it quietly. And they will destroy the evidence."
Moreno nodded slowly. "You're probably right. People who commit this kind of fraud don't stop when they're caught. They escalate."
"What do I do?"
"Keep your head down," Moreno said. "Don't let them know you have copies of those files. I'm going to open a confidential inquiry into the foundation's tax filings. It will take time."
"How much time?"
"A few weeks. A month."
Mara looked out the diner window. A cold rain was beginning to fall against the glass. "I don't think I have a month. Celeste is getting nervous. She's been watching me."
"Watching you how?"
"She follows me around the house. She checks my office when she thinks I'm in the nursery. Yesterday, she asked me if I had backed up the foundation's digital archives to my personal cloud."
Moreno leaned forward, his demeanor instantly sharpening. "What did you tell her?"
"I said no. I told her the files were only on the library computer."
"Good. Don't change your routine. But Mara..." Moreno reached into his pocket and handed her a small card with a direct cell number written on the back. "If anything feels off—if anyone threatens you, or if you feel unsafe for even a second—you call this number. Don't text. Call. Leave the line open if you can't talk."
"I understand," Mara said, taking the card.
When Mara returned to Hawthorne House that afternoon, the atmosphere in the grand residence felt suffocating.
Evelyn was sitting in the formal living room, sipping tea from a delicate china cup while listening to classical music.
"Where were you?" Evelyn asked as Mara walked past the archway.
"I had a doctor's appointment," Mara lied, holding her bag tightly against her side.
"You should have told James to drive you," Evelyn said smoothly, referring to the family chauffeur. "A woman in your condition shouldn't be driving in this rain."
"I like driving myself, Evelyn."
"It's not about what you like, dear," Evelyn replied, her voice dipped in honey and ice. "It's about what is safe for Daniel's child."
Daniel's child. Not hers. Never hers.
"Oliver is fine," Mara said firmly.
Evelyn's cup paused halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrowed into thin, cold slits. "What did you say?"
Mara realized her mistake immediately. She had used the name.
"Oliver," Mara repeated, standing her ground. "That's the name Daniel and I chose."
Evelyn set the teacup down on its saucer with a sharp clink. "That is not a Hawthorne name. The firstborn son is meant to be named Robert, after his grandfather."
"We decided on Oliver."
"Daniel wouldn't agree to that," Evelyn snapped, her composure slipping for a brief second.
"Daniel did agree," Mara said quietly. "Because he is my husband. And this is our baby."
She turned and walked up the grand staircase toward the west wing, feeling Evelyn's furious stare burning into her back the entire way up.
When she reached her bedroom, her phone chimed.
It was a text from Daniel: Working late at the office tonight. Board meeting ran over. Love you, see you around 8.
Mara sat on the edge of the bed, feeling utterly alone in the massive, hollow house.
May you like
She reached into her cardigan pocket, feeling the small card Detective Moreno had given her.
Then she heard footsteps outside her bedroom door.
