Chapter 4 - The Poisoned WellThe realization hit me like a physical blow: the corruption ran far deeper than Victor. The lead prosecutor on my mother’s trial six years ago was a man named Richard Vance—ironically, the estranged older brother of Marcus Vance, my mother’s current attorney!
I sprinted out of my apartment building and drove frantically to Marcus Vance’s office, slamming the heavy wooden door open without knocking.
Marcus was at his desk, reviewing court filings under a dim lamp. He jumped, startled by my sudden entry.
“Leo! What the hell is going on with you?”
I threw the black ledger onto his desk. “Your brother... District Attorney Richard Vance... he was in on it!”
Marcus froze, his expression darkening instantly. “What are you talking about?”
“My father kept a ledger!” I yelled, pacing back and forth. “He was laundering money for a group called Valkyrie! Victor killed him because my father was going to the FBI! But someone helped Victor clean the scene and plant the evidence to frame my mother! And I just got a call threatening to kill Ethan if I don't back off!”
Marcus slowly picked up the ledger, flipping through the pages. As his eyes scanned the names, dates, and account numbers, the blood drained from his face.
“My brother didn't just prosecute your mother, Leo,” Marcus said softly, his voice full of dread. “Richard’s political campaign for District Attorney six years ago... it was funded almost entirely by anonymous PACs tied to offshore shell companies.”
“Valkyrie,” I breathed.
“If Richard knew the evidence was tampered with, if he actively concealed it to secure a conviction and protect Valkyrie...” Marcus looked up at me, his eyes filled with grim determination. “Then we aren't just trying to free your mother. We are trying to dismantle a systemic execution conspiracy. Which means everyone involved in this case is now a target.”
Before I could reply, Marcus’s office phone rang sharp and loud.
He picked it up on speaker. “Marcus Vance.”
“Mr. Vance,” a panicked voice cried out from the speaker. It was the shift supervisor from the county jail holding facility. “You need to get down here right away.”
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“What happened? Is it Caroline?” Marcus asked, rising from his chair.
“It’s Victor Hayes,” the officer replied, his voice trembling. “He was found dead in his isolation cell ten minutes ago. Apparent poisoning. And someone stripped the video surveillance footage for the entire block.”
