Chapter 9 - SYDNEY’S LAST MESSAGE
Sydney was found six hours later.
Alive.
She had walked into a hospital thirty miles outside the city with a cut above her eyebrow and no purse.
She claimed she had fallen.
No one believed her.
Terrence went to the hospital.
I stayed away.
I loved my sister.
That was the most inconvenient truth of the entire disaster.
I hated what she had done.
I hated that she had slept with Jason.
I hated that she had agreed to use me.
But when I heard she was alive, my knees nearly gave out.
Love did not vanish just because trust did.
Sometimes that was the cruelty of it.
Sydney finally called me the next morning.
“I need to see you.”
“Are you safe?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer changed everything.
We met at Naomi’s office.
Terrence refused to attend.
I did not blame him.
Sydney entered wearing borrowed clothes.
There was a bandage near her temple.
Her eyes found mine.
“I’m sorry.”
I held up my hand.
“Not yet.”
She stopped.
“I’m not ready to hear an apology.”
Her mouth trembled.
“Then why did you come?”
“Because you said you weren’t safe.”
She sat down.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she said.
“Jason attacked me.”
My heart tightened.
“Why?”
“Because I told him I was going to tell you everything.”
“You already told Terrence.”
“Not everything.”
There it was.
The phrase that had haunted every day since I opened that living-room door.
Not everything.
Sydney said Jason had contacted her after the ruined wedding.
He demanded the necklace.
She told him she did not have it.
He accused her of lying.
They argued.
He got into her car.
When she threatened to go to police, he grabbed her phone.
She tried to take it back.
He shoved her.
Her head hit the window.
She ran when he stopped near the station.
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s inside the lockbox?”
Her face changed.
“You know about it?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Naomi.
Then back at me.
“Mom lied.”
“About what?”
“Grandma did open it.”
I almost laughed.
Of course she did.
“Then why does Dad need the key?”
“Because she couldn’t open everything.”
The metal box contained paper records.
But inside was a second compartment requiring the star pendant.
My grandmother had designed it with a locksmith friend.
Mom found the outer key after Grandma died.
She read some documents.
Then hid the box from Dad.
Years later, Dad discovered she had it.
The secret compartment remained locked.
“What’s supposed to be inside?”
Sydney whispered.
“Account numbers.”
“For Grandma’s trust?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“For everyone.”
She explained.
Northstar had once controlled a network of legitimate and illegitimate accounts.
Grandma documented them before her death.
If the hidden records were current enough, they could prove where millions had moved.
More importantly, they could identify every person still involved.
Gregory Voss.
Stephen Cole.
My father.
Possibly others.
“Why did Grandma give me the pendant?”
“She trusted you.”
“Then why did Mom let Jason steal it?”
Sydney looked ashamed.
“She told him where you kept your jewelry.”
The room went silent.
Mom had weaponized knowledge of my own home.
I looked down at my hands.
“When did you know about all of this?”
“Not until six months ago.”
“But you knew about the loan.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Jason was being paid.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was marrying me to get access.”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“Yes.”
I forced myself to remain still.
“And you still stood beside me at dress fittings.”
“Yes.”
“You planned my shower.”
“Yes.”
“You held my hand when I cried about being nervous.”
Sydney covered her mouth.
“I know.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You know what you did.”
“You don’t know what it felt like to live through it.”
She was right.
I did not.
I also did not care yet.
Maybe someday.
Not today.
“Why did you agree?”
She whispered.
“Because I loved him.”
“Jason?”
“Yes.”
“And Terrence?”
Her face broke.
“I loved him too.”
“That isn’t love.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She wiped her eyes.
“I thought Jason would leave you before the wedding.”
“He proposed to me.”
“I know.”
“And that didn’t tell you anything?”
“He kept saying the marriage was temporary.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He was lying to both of us.”
“Yes.”
For the first time, Sydney and I shared something again.
The truth of Jason.
Then she reached into her bag.
“I saved something.”
A small memory card.
“What is it?”
“Jason kept recordings.”
My pulse changed.
“Of what?”
“Dad.”
“Mom.”
“Gregory Voss.”
“His father.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Of course.
People who betrayed everyone eventually assumed everyone would betray them.
Sydney had copied the card months earlier.
She had been afraid Jason would abandon her.
Naomi inserted it into an isolated laptop.
There were dozens of files.
The first recording we played was Jason speaking with my father.
Dad said.
“Once the loan funds, Meline becomes irrelevant.”
Jason answered.
“What about the trust?”
Dad replied.
“That’s the real money.”
Then Jason asked.
“And Sydney?”
My father laughed.
“You really think I’m giving my daughter to you after this?”
Sydney closed her eyes.
Jason had never been part of Dad’s long-term plan.
Then another voice entered.
Stephen Cole.
Jason’s supposedly dead father.
“You’re all forgetting who decides what happens after the wedding.”
The recording cut out.
The next file was damaged.
The third contained Gregory Voss.
His voice was unmistakable from interviews online.
“Once the marriage is valid, we trigger phase two.”
Jason asked.
“What’s phase two?”
Voss replied.
“CipherStone.”
My blood turned cold.
The marriage had never simply been a pathway to my personal assets.
They wanted my company.
Naomi looked at me.
“Why?”
I already knew the answer.
CipherStone had evidence against them.
Owning part of it could give them leverage.
Destroying it could protect them.
Sydney reached across the table.
“There’s one more recording.”
She looked frightened.
“What?”
“It’s Mom.”
Naomi played it.
My mother’s voice said.
“If Meline learns what happened to Evelyn, none of us survive this.”
The room became still.
Then another person responded.
My father.
“She won’t.”
Mom whispered.
“You said that about Marcus’s father.”
May you like
And suddenly we were no longer investigating fraud.
We were listening to my parents discuss two dead people.
