My husband drove the car into the river with my brother and me trapped inside, but when the water had already reached my neck, the man who had been “paralyzed” for 15 years stood up from his wheelchair, k:ick:ed the door open, and whispered, “Play d:ea:d. He’s watching.” I didn’t ask any questions… until I saw who was waiting for my husband on the shore.

Again, refused.

Then Garrett contacted him.

He claimed I had verbally supported the restructuring before my death.

That was a lie.

Luckily, I had written objections.

The board postponed the vote.

Victor Vale appeared two days later.

I had not seen him in years.

He was seventy-one.

Tall.

Silver hair.

Perfect suits.

Garrett’s father.

He came to the shipyard.

Security footage showed him entering the executive conference room.

Samuel had remote access.

We watched.

Victor sat across from Penelope.

Garrett stood beside the window.

Victor looked angry.

“You were supposed to have signatures before this.”

Garrett said, “She kept delaying.”

Victor’s face hardened.

“That was your job.”

“I handled it.”

“No.”

“You created a body problem without securing control.”

My skin crawled.

A body problem.

That was me.

Garrett’s face changed.

“They’re dead.”

Victor leaned forward.

“Dead does not equal useful.”

Penelope rubbed her stomach.

“Stop blaming him.”