Chapter 12 - The Midnight Visitor
The rain began to lash against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Corbin’s estate just past midnight. He was sitting at his grand oak desk, reading through Julian’s final entry—a heartbreaking note addressed to an unborn child he knew he would never live to see grow up—when a sharp, frantic knock echoed through the quiet foyer.
Corbin frowned. It was past midnight. No courier, executive, or staff member ever arrived unannounced at this hour.
He stood up, walked through the dimly lit hallway, and pulled open the heavy front door.
Standing on the stone porch was a woman wrapped in a soaked trench coat, her dark hair plastered against her cheeks. It wasn’t Lianna. It was Clara Vance—Julian’s estranged younger sister, who had vanished into upstate New York twenty years ago after refusing to participate in the family’s forced silence.
"Clara?" Corbin stepped back, shock freezing his voice.
"I heard about the re-investigation, Corbin," she panted, shivering violently as she stepped across the threshold uninvited. "You think you’ve found everything in that blue envelope, don't you? You think Donald Vance was the only architect of my brother's ruin?"
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Corbin’s chest tightened. "What are you talking about?"
Clara reached into her soggy leather bag, pulled out a heavy, encrypted flash drive, and slapped it down onto the hall table. "My father—your uncle—wasn't just taking bribes. He recorded every single phone call Robert Stanford made the week Julian died. They didn't just ruin him professionally, Corbin. They tried to buy his silence permanently."
