Chapter 4 - THE TRAP CLOSES"Look at him," Richard murmured, stepping closer to the melting canvas with a twisted, triumphant smirk. He picked up a stiff wire brush and dragged it aggressively across the man's painted face, tearing the fabric of the canvas. "Thought he could outsmart me with his prenuptial agreements. Thought he could lock me out of the company accounts. So I locked him into something a lot more permanent."


Thomas Sterling looked away, rubbing his temples. "We just need to finish this and get back to the estate. Monday morning, the judge signs the papers, and the Clara and David trusts merge into a single holding account under your name. You’ll be untouchable, Richard."
"I'm already untouchable," Richard laughed softly.
Outside in the shadows, Sophie’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She knew she couldn't fight them. She was eight years old, small, and unarmed. But she had something they didn't realize: the small, silver-plated micro-recorder that belonged to her late mother, which she had found hidden inside Clara’s old jewelry box three weeks ago.
And right now, it was recording every single word echoing off the damp wooden walls of the boathouse.
Sophie slipped her hand into her coat pocket, pressing the record button down firmly.
Click.
The tiny plastic click was too loud in the damp silence.
Inside the boathouse, Richard froze. The wire brush stopped scraping against the canvas.
"What was that?" Richard whispered, his head snapping toward the open doorway.
"The wind," Sterling muttered nervously. "It’s just the wind off the cliffs, Richard. You're getting paranoid."
"Check the perimeter," Richard ordered, his voice dropping into a lethal register. He reached behind his back, sliding a heavy, silver-plated wrench out of his tool belt.
Mrs. Gable grabbed Sophie’s shoulder, her eyes wide with blind panic. Without a word, she shoved Sophie backward into the thick bank of coastal fog, whispering fiercely into her ear: "Run. Run up the cliff path and don't look back. Find Eleanor Vance. Tell her everything!"
Before Sophie could protest, Mrs. Gable stepped out from behind the crab traps, deliberately kicking a loose metal bucket across the gravel path.
Clang!
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"Who's out there?!" Richard roared, charging out of the boathouse into the fog.
Sophie scrambled backward into the brush, her tears freezing on her cheeks as she heard the terrifying sound of Richard’s heavy boots pounding against the dirt behind them, followed by Mrs. Gable’s panicked scream being cut short by the howling wind.