Chapter 3 - Harbor Light
Three days later, Emily returned to Charleston under police protection.
She refused to go back to the Mercer mansion.
Instead, she stayed in the apartment above Harbor Light.
It had belonged to her mother.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Graduation ceremonies.
Baby showers.
Community picnics.
Nurses holding newborns.
Her mother laughing beside women she had helped through difficult pregnancies.
Emily sat at the old desk.
Her broken wrist rested inside a brace.
Nora was across from her.
Vincent stood near the window.
“You don’t have to take over the clinic immediately,” Nora said.
“Yes.”
“Emily—”
“My mother trusted me with this.”
“She trusted you to live.”
“I am living.”
Nora sighed.
“Then live carefully.”
A knock came.
Dr. Lena Ortiz entered.
Emily stood.
“Lena.”
The older woman hugged her.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily held her tightly.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“Did Grant ever approach you about selling Harbor Light?”
Lena’s face changed.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
Emily relaxed slightly.
“Who else knew?”
“The board.”
“Everyone?”
“Most.”
Vincent looked at her.
“That means Grant could have had access from the beginning.”
Emily frowned.
“Unless someone told him.”
Lena looked down.
“There is someone.”
“Who?”
“Our finance director.”
“Marissa?”
Lena nodded.
“She claimed Grant’s company was offering financial relief.”
Emily stared.
“Did she sign anything?”
“I don’t know.”
Nora immediately requested the records.
They discovered thirty-seven unauthorized transfers.
Small amounts.
Twenty thousand.
Forty thousand.
Seventy-five thousand.
Always under approval thresholds.
The total exceeded four million.
Emily’s heart sank.
“Where did it go?”
Nora traced it.
A property management company.
The same one connected to Grant.
Marissa was gone.
Her office had been emptied overnight.
Emily felt betrayed.
But Lena shook her head.
“She has a daughter with cancer.”
Emily looked at her.
“She was desperate.”
“Grant used that.”
Silence.
Emily understood.
He had not recruited Marissa with greed.
He had recruited her with fear.
The realization made Grant seem even more dangerous.
A man who knew exactly what people needed.
A man who knew exactly what to threaten.
That afternoon, Emily entered the main clinic.
A sixteen-year-old girl was sitting alone in the waiting area.
Her name was Tasha.
She was seven months pregnant.
Her boyfriend had left.
Her parents had thrown her out.
Emily sat beside her.
“You’re safe here.”
The girl started crying.
“Everybody keeps telling me everything is going to be fine.”
Emily took her hand.
“I won’t lie to you.”
Tasha looked up.
“But I’ll stay with you while we figure it out.”
The girl nodded.
Behind them, nurses moved through the hallway.
This was what Harbor Light meant.
Not money.
Not land.
People.
That evening Vincent arrived with two investigators.
He placed a file on Emily’s desk.
“We found Grant’s offshore structure.”
She opened it.
There were accounts in three countries.
“Did he move money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Nora leaned over the papers.
“One of the accounts received payments from the same property company connected to the clinic.”
Emily stared.
“What does that prove?”
“Nothing yet.”
Then Vincent looked at the final page.
“It proves he’s been planning something for a long time.”
A photograph was clipped to the report.
Grant.
Paige.
And a man Emily did not recognize.
He stood beside them outside a private club.
Vincent said:
“That’s Elias Vane.”
Emily looked up.
“Who is he?”
Vincent didn’t answer.
She stared.
“Dad.”
Vincent finally said:
“He is the person businessmen call when they want a problem to disappear without involving lawyers.”
Emily understood.
A fixer.
“He works for Grant?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But they know each other.”
“Yes.”
That night, Emily went through her mother’s desk.
She opened every drawer.
Every cabinet.
Nothing.
Then she remembered something.
Her mother used to tell her:
“Important things are always hidden where nobody wants to look.”
Emily laughed softly.
She crouched beneath the desk.
The underside had a narrow compartment.
A key opened it.
Inside was a brown notebook.
Emily opened it.
The first page contained a handwritten note.
For Emily.
If you are reading this, something has gone wrong.
Emily’s heart pounded.
She turned the page.
My daughter, there are people who believe Harbor Light can be bought.
Do not let them.
The clinic was not built with money.
It was built with promises.
Then another line.
Your father knows why.
Emily stopped.
She looked toward the window.
Vincent was standing outside on the street, watching the building.
He had known.
All these years.
She called him.
“You knew Mom left me a message.”
He was silent.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she asked me not to.”
Emily felt betrayed.
“Why?”
“Because she knew the danger would eventually reach you.”
“What danger?”
Vincent’s voice lowered.
“The people who wanted Harbor Light before Grant ever knew it existed.”
Emily stared at the notebook.
“Who?”
“Your mother called them the Ravens.”
“What are they?”
“A private network of investors, politicians, attorneys, and developers.”
“Criminals?”
“Some.”
“Who leads them?”
“I never found out.”
Emily looked at the page.
At the bottom of the notebook was a symbol.
A black bird.
And underneath it:
Mercer.
She whispered:
“Grant is one of them.”
Vincent answered:
“Yes.”
Then Emily heard something.
A crash downstairs.
She ran into the hallway.
A clinic window had been smashed.
The waiting room was empty.
On the floor lay a single message.
Sell Harbor Light.
Or more than glass will break.
Emily stared at it.
Then footsteps sounded behind her.
May you like
Grant’s voice came from the darkness.
“Hello, wife.”
