Chapter 11 - The Ghost in the Study
The silence that followed Richard Sterling’s arrest hung thick over the Napa Valley estate. Harrison sat alone in the dim study, the glow of his terminal illuminating his sharp features as he reviewed the remaining digital signatures from the encrypted hard drive.
A soft click echoed from the hallway.
Harrison’s hand instantly drifted toward his sidearm, his muscles tensing. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice cutting through the quiet.
The heavy oak door slowly creaked open. Standing in the threshold, illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through the window, was a figure leaning heavily against the frame. Pale skin, a jagged scar running along the left jawline, and eyes that mirrored his own.
Harrison froze, his breath catching in his throat.
"Hello, brother," David whispered, his voice raspy and choked with emotion.
Harrison stood up so fast his chair crashed backward against the floorboards. For a fraction of a second, he thought it was a hallucination—a ghost conjured by exhaustion and adrenaline. But as David stepped forward, his boots clicking softly on the hardwood, Harrison crossed the room and pulled his brother into a fierce, suffocating embrace.
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"You're alive," Harrison muttered, his voice breaking for the first time in over a decade. "They told me... the forensic report from Westchester said..."
"The forensic report was fabricated by Richard's internal assets," David replied, resting his head against Harrison's shoulder. "I had to stay buried, Harrison. If they knew I survived the warehouse blast, they would have finished off Owen and Lily too."
