Chapter 4: The Voice on the Phone
Daniel was watching my face.
I kept it still.
"Say that again," I said into the phone.
"I said I think you already know who this is." The voice was quieter now.
More careful.
As though he was aware of how much space his words were taking up.
"I've been watching what's happening, Emma.
I couldn't stay quiet any longer."
"Where are you?"
"That's not the right question yet."
"Then what is?"
"Ask me why Nathan needed you removed from the company before Friday specifically.
Not before next month.
Not before the end of the year.
Friday."
I looked at Daniel.
He had his notepad out.
"Tell me," I said.
"Your twenty-ninth birthday triggers a clause in the original trust.
Your grandfather wrote it in 1987.
On the date you turn twenty-nine, full control of the Hale family trust reverts to the eldest living Hale heir.
That's you, Emma.
Not your mother.
Not Nathan.
You." A breath.
"But only if you are listed as an active shareholder in the company at the time.
If your shares have already been transferred—"
"Then I don't qualify." My voice was steady.
"And the trust goes elsewhere."
"To whoever your mother has designated as the secondary beneficiary."
"Who is it?"
Silence.
"Who is the secondary beneficiary?"
"Nathan," the voice said.
"She designated Nathan four years ago.
Before you were married.
Before you even knew who he was."
The kitchen felt very small suddenly.
Daniel had stopped writing.
He was looking at me.
"She introduced us," I said.
Slowly.
Like I was hearing myself from the end of a long corridor.
"My mother introduced me to Nathan.
At her charity dinner.
She said he was an old family friend."
"He wasn't a friend," the voice said.
"He was a plan."
I set the phone on the table and put it on speaker.
My hands needed to be flat on the surface for a moment.
"You said you know what's happening on Friday," I said.
"What exactly are they planning to do?"
"The share transfer document — the one with the forged signature — is scheduled to be filed with the company registrar at nine a.m.
Friday morning.
Once it's filed and accepted, your shareholder status is erased.
The trust clause triggers at midnight Friday.
If your name isn't on the register by then, it's over."
"How much time do we have?"
"Sixty-one hours."
Daniel was already on his own phone, stepping toward the hallway.
I looked at the photograph still lying on the table.
"The woman who brought me the envelope," I said.
"Who is she?"
"Her name is Patricia.
She was Celeste's aunt.
Celeste recruited her to deliver it because she knew Nathan had someone watching your street.
A woman carrying an envelope looks less suspicious than a lawyer."
"Why is Celeste helping me?"
A long pause.
"Because Nathan promised her the same thing he promised you," the voice said.
"And she found out last week that he was planning to remove her too, once the trust was secured.
She has nothing left to protect by staying loyal to him."
I stood up.
Walked to the window.
The street outside was dark and quiet.
"I need to know who you are," I said.
"Before this goes any further."
"I know you do."
"Then tell me."
"Not on the phone." Another pause.
"Tomorrow morning.
The café on Alderton Street, the one near your mother's old office.
Eight o'clock.
Come alone."
The call ended.
Daniel appeared in the doorway.
"I've reached our filing contact," he said.
"If we can produce a verified challenge to the share transfer document before nine a.m.
Friday, we can block the registration.
But Emma—" He stopped.
"We need more than the forensic report.
We need something that proves the original transfer was obtained through fraud.
Something a judge will accept on forty-eight hours' notice."
I picked up the photograph.
"I think I know where to get it," I said.
"Where?"
I looked at the grey coat.
The turned shoulder.
May you like
The man who had walked away.
"From the person who started all of this."
