Chapter 6 - The Account in Her Name
Emma was three years old, and someone had used her name to conceal two million dollars.
Naomi explained that the account had been created through a custodial structure with forged authorization.
A transfer from my company went to the shell corporation, then to the child's account, then almost immediately overseas.
The paperwork was designed to implicate me and make the money look impossible to recover.
“What kind of person uses a toddler as a shield?” Rachel asked.
I had no answer.
Ortiz warned that any evidence collected outside proper channels could become difficult to use.
So we let Naomi document the trail and turn it over through Rachel rather than trying to break into accounts ourselves.
At the hospital Emma had begun eating a little soup.
Ethan watched every spoonful as if it were a miracle.
“You're getting better,” he told her.
Emma nodded gravely.
“Ethan gave me water.”
“I know,” I said.
“He told me.”
She turned toward me.
“Mommy said quiet.”
Rachel, who had been standing at the doorway, stopped moving.
“Quiet about what, sweetheart?” I asked gently.
Emma looked away.
She was tired, and I refused to make her relive anything for our convenience.
“We don't have to talk about it now.”
A child specialist would speak with her when she was ready.
That night Sarah finally called from the clinic.
Her voice sounded thin and exhausted.
“Is Emma alive?”
“Yes.”
She began to cry.
My anger rose again.
“You could have called anyone, Sarah.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you?”
“He took my phone.”
“Who?”
She whispered, “Victor.”
I looked at the police officer outside Emma's room.
“Then tell Detective Ortiz everything.”
“I can't yet.”
“You don't get to choose when our children deserve protection.”
The silence between us became unbearable.
Then Sarah said, “Daniel, there is a video of you signing the transfer orders.”
“That can't be real.”
“I know,” she said. “Because I watched them make it.”
Before she hung up, she told me where the unedited recording was hidden.
“Look in the red box,” she said.
May you like
Then, almost too quietly to hear, “And don't let Marcus near it.”
