Chapter 6 - The Midnight Knock
It started at 2:14 AM.
My phone—which we had set to alert only for priority contacts—began to buzz violently against the bedside table. I sat up in the dark, my heart giving a sharp flutter.
"Chloe?" Maya muttered from the next room, waking instantly. "Is it them?"
"Check your email," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
A moment later, the soft glow of Maya's laptop illuminated the hallway as she opened her inbox. Gasps of disbelief echoed from her lips.
"Chloe... look at this. Look at the timestamp."
I hopped awkwardly on one foot, leaning against the doorframe to peer over her shoulder at the screen.
An automated Google Alert, followed by a frantic email from Marcus's defense attorney of record, flashed across the monitor. Within twenty minutes of the dossier landing on the desks of federal investigators and financial journalists, the fallout had begun:
Trading Halted: Sterling Architectural Group stock had been immediately suspended on the exchange following a sudden, unexplained leak of federal investigation notices regarding corporate embezzlement.
Emergency Board Meeting: Eleanor had been forcefully stripped of her position as Chairperson of the Board by emergency vote of the minority shareholders.
The Attorney's Plea: Marcus's high-priced defense attorney was literally begging for a plea deal, offering a multi-million-dollar financial settlement and immediate, uncontested divorce terms in exchange for halting the release of the corporate fraud files.
"They're drowning," Maya breathed, staring at the screen in awe. "They spent three days trying to destroy you publicly, and in two hours, you dismantled their entire generational wealth."
Suddenly, the buzzer at the front door of our safe apartment buzzed sharply. Bzzzzzt.
Maya and I froze. We exchanged a terrified glance. Nobody knew our location except the state relocation officer and our attorney.
Bzzzzzt. The buzzer sounded again, longer this time.
"Stay here," Maya whispered, grabbing a heavy brass table lamp from the entryway console. She crept toward the heavy metal door, peering cautiously through the peephole.
May you like
Her posture instantly slumped in shock. She unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
Standing in the dim hallway, disheveled, makeup smeared down her cheeks, and wearing a crumpled designer trench coat that looked like she had slept in it for three days, was Eleanor Sterling.
