Chapter 11 - The Inheritance of Cinders
The autumn wind howled outside the thick glass windows of the federal penitentiary visiting room, but inside, the air was dead and stale. Celeste Hawthorne stared at the visitor on the other side of the reinforced glass, her fingers curling tightly around the plastic telephone handset.
Seated across from her was Arthur Vance, the former legal executor of the Hawthorne trust. His tailored suit looked profoundly out of place against the drab gray walls of the facility, yet his expression remained as unreadable as ever.
"Why are you here, Arthur?" Celeste snapped, her voice raspy and laced with venom. "If you came to tell me the appeal was denied, I already know. The judge upheld every single asset forfeiture."
Vance slowly adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, leaning forward until his face was nearly pressed against the partition. "The appeal was never meant to succeed, Celeste. It was a smoke screen. While the federal prosecutors were busy locking down the domestic accounts, a secondary portfolio was quietly moved offshore three days before your arrest."
Celeste’s eyes flared with sudden, desperate hope. "Offshore? What kind of portfolio? How much?"
"Enough to rebuild," Vance whispered softly, his eyes scanning the room to ensure no guards were listening. "Your mother orchestrated the safety net before she was transferred to the maximum-security wing upstate. But there is a catch. The cryptographic key to unlock those digital vaults wasn't left with me. It was embedded in a physical artifact—an antique pocket watch that belonged to Robert Hawthorne."
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"Where is the watch?" Celeste demanded, gripping the edge of the metal table.
"That’s the complication," Vance replied, a grim smile touching the corner of his lips. "It was included in the historical artifact donation sent to the city museum last month. The very museum that Mara Hawthorne now manages."
