Chapter 9 - The Lie Simon Chose
Mara approached the boarded window.
“Dad?”
“Do not open the door.”
His voice was older than memory but unmistakably his. It carried the same dry warmth that had once made him read newspaper editorials aloud at breakfast. Now it sounded strained, as though every word had been dragged through years of regret. Julian stood beside Lena.
“How do we know you are really Simon Hart?”
“You do not.”
Mara looked at the floor. There was a narrow gap beneath the door. She crouched and saw a pair of worn brown boots.
“Tell me what you called me when I was eight.”
Silence. Then Simon answered,
“The hurricane with pigtails.”
Mara closed her eyes. Only her father had called her that. The memory came with the smell of pancakes and the sound of her mother laughing from the kitchen. Mara opened the door’s small inspection hatch.
Simon’s face appeared in the gap. He was thinner than the man in her memories, with deep lines around his mouth and a beard streaked entirely white. His eyes filled when he saw her.
“You grew up,” he said.
“You died.”
His face collapsed.
“I know.”
“You let me mourn you.”
“I thought it was the only way to keep you alive.”
Mara stood.
“Everyone says that when they want forgiveness for making a choice without me.”
Simon glanced toward the road.
“Charles is coming.”
Lena removed the bar from the outside using a tire iron that fit beneath the door. The three of them entered the office, and Simon locked it again. Julian kept his distance.
“Start with the crash.”
Simon looked at him.
“You were close to proving Charles had been diverting foundation money. You found the original transfer records in Gideon’s private archive.”
“We found the ledger.”
“The ledger contains planted pages.”
Mara held it up.
“Which pages?”
Simon pointed to the back.
“Everything written in blue ink after Gideon’s death. Charles copied Gideon’s handwriting from old files. He wanted Julian to believe Elena had signed the order removing Gideon.”
Elena’s name still hurt like a wound, but Mara heard the distinction.
“Did she sign anything?”
“She signed a legal transfer. Charles told her it would protect the foundation from an audit. She did not know he had already emptied three accounts.”
Julian’s jaw worked.
“That does not make her innocent.”
“No.”
“Did my father know?”
“He knew enough to confront Charles. He planned to expose him.”
Simon crossed to the desk. From beneath his coat, he removed a packet wrapped in oilskin.
“Gideon gave this to me the night before he died.”
Inside were photographs of ledgers, copies of bank statements, and a letter signed by Gideon. The real order bearing Simon’s signature was there too. Simon had written across it in red ink: FORGED AFTER MY REFUSAL. Mara stared at the documents.
“Why did you disappear?”
Simon’s hands shook.
“Charles followed me after I left the house. He had Pike with him. They forced my car off the road, but I escaped before it caught fire. I knew they would come for you next. So I made them believe I had died.”
“You could have contacted me.”
“Every person I contacted was watched.”
“You could have trusted me.”
Simon met her eyes.
“You were nineteen.”
“I was not nine.”
“You were my daughter, and I was afraid.”
Mara turned away. Her rage was easier to hold than the grief beneath it. Simon continued,
“For years I gathered evidence from outside the country. When Julian began investigating, I tried to warn him.”
Julian stiffened.
“You sent the anonymous emails.”
“Yes.”
“And the night of the crash?”
Simon’s expression changed.
“I did not cause it. I was trying to reach you both.”
Mara’s heartbeat quickened.
“Who was driving?”
Simon looked toward Elena.
“Your mother.”
The room went still. Elena’s lips parted.
“No.”
“She was driving behind Julian. Charles had arranged for her to intercept him and bring him home. Pike followed. When Julian refused to stop, Pike rammed his car from behind.”
Julian’s face had gone white.
“Mother was there?”
Elena covered her mouth.
“I remember the road. I remember the rain. I remember seeing headlights. Then Charles told me Julian had driven away.”
“You struck his car,” Simon said.
“Pike pushed you into a ditch. You hit your head. He pulled Julian from the wreck and told you he was dead.”
“That is impossible.”
“It is what Charles wanted you to believe.”
Mara thought of the recording: Gideon’s warning that Elena had signed the order. She had been compromised, frightened, and manipulated, but she had still helped Charles isolate Julian afterward. Julian looked at his mother.
“Did you see Mara that night?”
Elena began to shake.
“No.”
Simon’s gaze moved to Mara.
“You were standing at the roadside. Your car had broken down.”
Mara remembered only fragments: rain, a distant crash, a dark sedan slowing near her, then headlights vanishing. She had assumed Julian had passed her without stopping.
“Why didn’t I remember?” Julian asked.
“Because Pike struck you before the ambulance came.”
Outside, an engine roared. Lena moved to the window.
“We have company.”
Simon gathered the documents.
“There is a second exit through the depot tunnel.”
Mara caught his arm.
“You knew where I was all these years. Why send the messages now?”
“Because Charles found me.”
“And because I am carrying the child who can take everything from him.”
Simon looked at her stomach.
“The child is not the only reason.”
He handed her a photograph. It showed Simon standing beside a woman with dark hair and a familiar profile. Mara recognized her immediately. Beatrice Hartwell.
On the back, Simon had written a date from three weeks earlier.
“She came to me before the crash,” he said.
“She asked me to help her stop Charles.”
The depot door exploded inward. Charles stood in the smoke with Calder Pike behind him.
“Simon,” Charles said.
“You have always been excellent at surviving.”
Pike raised his weapon. Charles looked at Mara.
May you like
“Unfortunately,” he added,
“your daughter was not.”
