Chapter 4 - A Dead Man’s Warning
Inside the envelope was a brass key and three pages written on yellow legal paper.
Sadi recognized the small ink blot beside her father’s signature.
He had always used the same leaking pen.
My girl,
If you’re reading this, I have made a mistake I cannot repair by myself.
The gym’s new donors are using our accounts. I thought accepting their money would keep the doors open. Then I found payments that weren’t ours.
I confronted Matteo Russo.
I should have gone to the authorities first.
Her vision blurred.
She stopped, breathed, and kept reading.
Eli knows where I kept copies. He thinks he can help. Tell him courage does not mean going alone.
The key opens the station locker we used after tournaments.
Whatever happens, none of this is your fault.
I am proud of you before you win anything.
Sadi pressed her fist against her mouth.
There were other things in the envelope too: a tournament receipt, a clipping about her first regional title, and a photograph of Ruth cheering with both arms raised. None helped establish a crime. All of them mattered. Her father had packed evidence beside reminders of why he had finally become afraid. Sadi separated the personal pages carefully so Elena could carefully document everything. She wanted to keep the photograph. Elena explained when it could be returned, and Sadi listened, determined not to let impatience damage the first real chance they had been given to find answers. For once, her anger had somewhere useful to go next.
Elena waited.
Outside, delivery carts rattled past the bakery.
Somewhere below them, a woman laughed.
The world had an extraordinary talent for remaining ordinary.
“He gave you this before the fire?”
“Two days before. He instructed me to hold it unless he died or disappeared.”
“Why didn’t I get it then?”
“I tried. Your old apartment was empty. Your mother’s hospital wouldn’t disclose her location. Mail came back.”
Sadi remembered the eviction.
The disconnected phones.
The weeks when survival narrowed to medication and bus fare.
Elena’s face tightened.
“I should have kept trying.”
“Yes,” Sadi said.
Elena nodded.
No excuse followed.
That helped.
By ten, independent counsel had contacted a federal investigative team.
The existence of the letter did not prove who caused the fire.
Elena repeated that twice.
Sadi understood.
Wanting something to be true could ruin the work required to establish it.
Dominic gave a preliminary statement through his own attorney.
He named businesses, associates, and accounts.
He also named himself.
Sadi watched him emerge from the meeting with a gray face.
“Did you tell them everything?”
“Enough to start. There will be more interviews.”
“Will they arrest you?”
“Possibly.”
He did not reach for sympathy.
She appreciated that more than she wanted to.
That afternoon, they went to the station with investigators.
The locker system had changed, but Elena had preserved the original rental details. An old storage attendant located the transferred contents.
A battered equipment bag.
Training shoes.
A stopwatch.
And a hard drive wrapped inside her father’s hand towels.
Sadi looked away when the investigator lifted it.
Dominic stood several feet back.
He had not tried to comfort her.
Finally, she said, “I thought he died thinking I was angry with him.”
“Were you?”
“Our last conversation was about a tournament. He wanted me to withdraw because my back hurt. I told him he couldn’t understand what it meant to me.”
Dominic looked at the bag.
“He wrote that he was proud before you won anything.”
She laughed once, brokenly.
“You heard?”
“You read that part out loud.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then her phone rang.
An unknown number.
Elena motioned for her to answer on speaker.
Static.
A breath.
“Sade?”
The nickname struck harder than any punch.
“Eli?”
“Listen. Whatever you found, don’t give it to Dominic.”
Across the corridor, Dominic went still.
“He’s helping me.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
A door slammed somewhere on the line.
Eli’s breathing quickened.
“His signature is on the order.”
“What order?”
“The transfer. The night Dad died.”
The call cut off.
Sadi lowered the phone.
May you like
Dominic did not look away.
And suddenly the distance between them felt much smaller than safety required.
