Chapter 10 - MARGARET'S CONFESSIONI found Margaret in a small coastal town two days later.
She lived in a modest house overlooking the ocean.
No mansion.
No servants.
No luxury cars.
Just silence.
When she opened the door, she wasn't surprised to see me.
"You found me."
"Yes."
She stepped aside.
"Come in."
I entered.
There were photographs everywhere.
Arthur as a child.
Arthur at school.
Arthur's father.
Arthur's first business.
And one photograph that stopped me.
Chloe.
She was six months old.
Margaret was holding her.
I hadn't seen the picture before.
"You loved her."
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
"More than you know."
"Then why did you treat me like garbage?"
She looked away.
"Because I blamed you."
"For what?"
"For taking my son away."
I almost laughed.
"Arthur did that himself."
"I know."
She sat down.
I remained standing.
"Tell me about Northstar."
Margaret sighed.
"My husband started it."
"Why?"
"Medical distribution."
"That's not the whole story."
"No."
She looked at me.
"The company originally supplied hospitals with emergency equipment."
"And then?"
"Your father invested in it."
I froze.
"My father?"
She nodded.
"Your father knew my husband."
That changed everything.
"My father knew about the research?"
"Not the unethical part."
"Then what?"
"Richard wanted to develop faster diagnostic tools for pediatric infections."
My eyes filled with tears.
"Was Chloe part of it?"
Margaret shook her head.
"Not intentionally."
"Then why was her name in the files?"
"Because Arthur added it."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"After Chloe was born, Arthur became obsessed with her health."
I almost laughed.
"Obsessed?"
"He was afraid she would inherit a genetic condition from your side of the family."
"What condition?"
"Your father had a rare immune disorder."
I had never known.
Margaret continued.
"Arthur asked the research team to analyze Chloe's records."
My stomach tightened.
"Without telling me."
"Yes."
I sat down.
For the first time, the pieces began fitting together.
Arthur had betrayed me.
But his worst secret wasn't an affair.
It was the fact that he had allowed people to study our daughter without my knowledge.
"Did he cause her death?"
Margaret looked directly at me.
"No."
The answer was immediate.
"But he helped create the system that failed her."
I closed my eyes.
That was almost worse.
Margaret stood.
"I have something for you."
She walked into another room.
When she returned, she held a small box.
Inside was a USB drive.
"What's this?"
"Your husband's private files."
"How did you get them?"
"After his arrest, I accessed his private office."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to know what he had done."
I plugged the drive into my laptop.
One folder appeared.
CHLOE.
Inside were dozens of documents.
Emails.
Medical reports.
Private messages.
Then I found one email dated six weeks before Chloe became sick.
From Arthur to Dr. Reed.
I want everything related to her removed from the research database. My wife can never know.
I stared.
He had tried to erase her.
Then came the reply.
Too late. The data has already been transferred.
My blood ran cold.
Transferred where?
The answer was in another email.
Northstar.
I looked at Margaret.
"Why didn't you destroy this?"
"Because I knew one day you'd need the truth."
She took a breath.
"And because I finally realized my son wasn't the only person who had failed Chloe."
I looked at her.
"Who else?"
She whispered:
"Me."
Silence filled the room.
Margaret began crying.
"I knew Arthur was lying to you. I knew he was cheating. I knew he was using company money."
"Why didn't you stop him?"
"Because I thought protecting my son was the same as loving him."
Her voice broke.
"I was wrong."
I didn't forgive her.
Not yet.
But for the first time, I understood her.
Before I left, Margaret stopped me.
"Eleanor."
I turned.
"There is one more thing."
"What?"
"Northstar has a board meeting tomorrow."
"So?"
"Arthur isn't on the board."
"I know."
"But someone is."
"Who?"
Margaret looked at me.
"Beatrice."
My heart stopped.
Beatrice had taken a plea deal.
She was supposed to be cooperating with prosecutors.
Yet somehow, she was still connected to the company.
I called Marcus immediately.
"Find Beatrice."
His answer came seconds later.
"She's gone."
"What?"
"She disappeared from witness protection."
My blood ran cold.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE PAST ALONE.
A second message followed.
NOW YOU'LL PAY FOR LOOKING.
And attached was a photograph.
My house.
May you like
Taken that morning.
Someone was watching us again.
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