Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF A NEW LIFEBack at Arthur’s house, the two men sat in silence over a bottle of cheap scotch. Arthur hadn't touched his glass; he just stared at a framed photograph of Claire when she was sixteen, smiling brightly on a family camping trip.
"It makes sense now," Frank said, breaking the silence as he lit a cigarette. "The car crash six years ago. It wasn't an accident. It was a staged event."
"Staged?" Arthur turned his bloodshot eyes toward his friend. "How do you stage a car exploding in a ravine?"
"Easy. You steal a junk car, put a John or Jane Doe corpse inside—likely someone from a morgue or an unclaimed transient, given how corrupt some county coroners can be—and push it off an embankment. Torch it so dental records and DNA are destroyed beyond immediate recognition. Meanwhile, Claire walks away with a brand-new identity, a pocketful of cash, and a partner in crime."
"Why?" Arthur’s voice broke. "Why would my own daughter do that to me? To her mother? Evelyn died of a broken heart because of this!"
"Money, Art. Look at the scale of this operation. Apex Medical Research isn't a normal clinic; they do high-risk, unlicensed neurological and pharmaceutical trials. That takes millions in venture capital—capital Marcus and Claire didn't have. They needed seed money. Big money." Frank leaned forward. "And who had a hardware store, an inherited duplex, and a solid retirement fund?"
Arthur closed his eyes, a searing pain cutting through his chest. "Me. They used my love for Claire to fund a criminal enterprise."
"And they used Leo as leverage," Frank added grimly. "A six-year-old anchor to make sure you never stopped paying, never asked too many questions, and kept showing up twice a month with ice cream."
Arthur stood up so fast his chair tipped over backward. The grief was gone now, replaced by something cold, heavy, and absolute.
"Where is Leo right now?" Arthur asked, his voice deathly quiet.
May you like
Frank checked his watch. "School ended twenty minutes ago. Marcus usually picks him up on Tuesdays."
"Not today," Arthur said, grabbing his car keys off the kitchen counter. "We’re going to grandson's school. And then, we’re going to have a family reunion."
