Chapter 9 - LINDA’S VERSIONLinda asked to speak to me.
Alone.
I refused.
Then she told her lawyer:
“Tell Clara I know what Mark did to Thomas.”
I went.
Detective Alvarez sat behind the glass.
Linda wore beige detention clothes.
No jewelry.
No makeup.
Still somehow regal.
She smiled.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“My son has nightmares.”
“He’ll recover.”
“You don't get to say his name.”
Her smile faded.
“Then why are you here?”
“Mark.”
She leaned back.
“I wondered how long it would take.”
“Is he Thomas’s son?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
“Who is his father?”
“Does it matter?”
“To Mark?”
She smiled.
“More than anything.”
Linda had been pregnant when she met Thomas.
Thomas knew.
Raised Mark anyway.
Never treated him differently.
But Mark discovered the truth at seventeen.
“He became obsessed with proving he deserved the Hale name.”
“By stealing?”
Linda's expression changed.
“You found the ledger.”
“Yes.”
She looked almost impressed.
“Thomas always did love records.”
“Did Mark kill him?”
Linda went still.
There.
Fear.
Real fear.
“I don't know.”
“Did you?”
She laughed.
“No.”
“Thomas suspected his death might not be natural.”
“He suspected everyone.”
“Why?”
“Because he discovered Mark had been siphoning money.”
“And you?”
“I took what was mine.”
“From your grandchildren?”
Her jaw tightened.
“Family money stays under family control.”
“Noah is family.”
“Half.”
I stared.
There it was.
Bloodline.
Control.
Me.
The outsider.
“You locked him in a cage because he's half mine.”
“I disciplined him because you refuse to.”
“Emily?”
Silence.
“You locked a two-year-old in the same cage.”
Linda looked away.
For the first time.
I leaned forward.
“You're afraid.”
“Of you?”
“No.”
“Of Mark.”
Her eyes returned.
“What did he do?”
Linda said nothing.
“What did he do to Thomas?”
Finally:
“Ask where Mark was the night his father died.”
I stood.
Linda added:
“And Clara?”
I stopped.
“You think Ryan is the weak one.”
She smiled.
“He is.”
“But weakness isn't the same as danger.”
I turned.
“Mark has spent his whole life pretending to protect this family.”
Her smile vanished.
“He never protects anyone unless there's something in it for him.”
Outside, Alvarez was waiting.
“We checked.”
“What?”
“Mark’s alibi the night Thomas died.”
“And?”
“There isn't one.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Mark.
We need to talk about Ryan. Come alone.
Attached:
A photograph of Ryan entering Linda’s house.
Timestamp:
Thirty minutes ago.
But Ryan had told me he was picking Noah up from school.
I called the school.
May you like
Noah had already been collected.
By Mark.
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