Chapter 4 - The Voice of a Dead WomanGrant replayed the recording nineteen times.
The voice was identical.
His wife's.
Same accent.
Same cadence.
Same tiny pause before certain words.
Claire listened.
“It sounds like her.”
“It is her.”
“She could have recorded it before she died.”
Grant shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she said something she only told me once.”
“What?”
Grant pressed play.
The voice said:
You should have left the past buried.
Grant closed his eyes.
“My wife used that exact phrase when she fought with my father.”
Claire frowned.
“Your father?”
“He died twelve years ago.”
“What happened?”
“He built my first company with me.”
“What did he do?”
“Everything.”
Grant's voice hardened.
“He also believed bloodline mattered more than people.”
Claire remembered the phrase in the letter.
Something that belongs to them.
“Your father's family.”
Grant looked at her.
“My family is complicated.”
“Everyone's is.”
“Mine is dangerous.”
That night, they uncovered old files.
Holloway Maritime had been built from a company founded by Grant's grandfather.
There was money.
Ports.
Insurance.
Shipping.
And a hidden division that had disappeared from all official records.
Medical logistics.
Claire noticed the dates.
The hidden division had purchased experimental tracking devices.
Three-dot technology.
She stared.
“The sensor in Lily's ear.”
Grant nodded.
“Could have come from here.”
“Why would your company develop medical sensors?”
“My father invested in a medical technology firm.”
“Which one?”
Grant looked at the file.
“Helix Diagnostics.”
Claire's stomach dropped.
She knew that name.
The clinic from her past.
Grant looked at her.
“What?”
“I worked with them.”
His expression changed.
“You did?”
“I didn't work for the company.”
“But you knew about the children.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me everything.”
Claire did.
Grant listened.
Helix had conducted experimental monitoring programs on children with chronic illnesses.
Officially, the sensors tracked vital signs.
Unofficially, some patients' data had been transmitted without consent.
Claire had reported it.
The child disappeared.
Her supervisor told her to forget the case.
She quit.
Two months later, the clinic closed.
Grant stared at the records.
“My wife knew.”
“How?”
“She was investigating Helix.”
Claire looked at him.
“What?”
“My wife's cancer diagnosis came after she discovered unauthorized financial transfers between Holloway Maritime and Helix.”
Claire froze.
“That means…”
“Yes.”
His expression was deadly.
“My wife wasn't investigating cancer.”
“She was investigating us.”
“Exactly.”
Grant's phone rang.
His attorney.
An emergency message had arrived.
A dormant trust account had been activated.
The beneficiary was Lily.
The administrator?
Grant's dead father.
Impossible.
Grant stared at the document.
“This can't exist.”
Claire looked at it.
“Maybe that's the lie.”
“What?”
“Your father isn't the administrator.”
“Then who is?”
The answer appeared in the metadata.
Dr. Adrian Vale.
Claire's blood ran cold.
“The pediatric consultant?”
Grant nodded.
Claire remembered the three-dot symbol.
The child.
The sensor.
The missing family.
Everything connected.
Vale hadn't been treating sick children.
He had been tracking them.
But why?
Grant looked at Claire.
“I want you to leave.”
She stared.
“What?”
“You're in danger because of me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Claire.”
“You need someone who understands the medical side.”
He hesitated.
She stepped closer.
“And you need someone who isn't afraid to tell you when you're wrong.”
He almost smiled.
“You've been doing that since you walked into my daughter's room.”
“Good.”
He looked at her.
“Stay.”
Her heart jumped.
“I will.”
“Then stay close.”
She nodded.
Neither noticed the figure watching them from the end of the hallway.
A woman.
Older.
May you like
Elegant.
And wearing Grant's wife's perfume.
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