Chapter 9 - The Accident Was No Longer SimpleGrant had replayed Emma’s final night thousands of times.
Rain.
A dark highway.
A sharp turn.
Her car crossing the center line.
The police report concluded she lost control on wet pavement.
No alcohol.
No mechanical defect.
No second vehicle identified.
Grant accepted it because the alternative was madness.
Now Charles Voss was tearing open the grave.
“Who was following her?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I tried to find out.”
“For two years?”
“For longer.”
Grant frowned.
“Longer than what?”
“I investigated before Emma died.”
“Why?”
Charles sighed.
“Because she thought someone inside Harrison Medical had discovered who I was.”
Grant felt ice run through him.
“Inside my company?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“She didn’t know.”
Grant looked at Michael.
He was listening.
“Emma worked nowhere near Harrison Medical.”
“No. But she was married to you.”
“What information could she have?”
“Access.”
Grant closed his eyes.
The same word Vanessa used.
The same method.
Maybe the conspiracy around his marriage was not new.
Maybe someone had learned the strategy from Emma.
“Why was Emma frightened?”
“She found documents in your home office.”
Grant frowned.
“What documents?”
“Merger proposals.”
“There were none.”
“Then someone put them there.”
Grant’s skin prickled.
“Why?”
“To make Emma believe you were secretly negotiating with Voss.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Because she had just discovered I was her father.”
Grant understood slowly.
Someone wanted Emma suspicious of Grant.
Just as Vanessa later tried to make Rose distrust him.
Turn family against family.
Create fear.
Then control the decision.
“Did Emma accuse me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She wasn’t sure.”
“What did she do?”
“She called me.”
Grant felt grief twist inside him.
Emma had been carrying this alone.
Just as Rose had been carrying Vanessa’s cruelty.
“Was that why we were fighting?”
“Partly.”
Grant shut his eyes.
He remembered Emma asking odd questions.
Would Grant ever sell Harrison?
Did he trust Richard Vale?
Why did Grant keep confidential papers at home?
He had snapped at her.
Accused her of interfering.
God.
“Richard.”
Charles was silent.
Grant opened his eyes.
“Richard Vale was on the board then.”
“Yes.”
“You think Richard followed Emma.”
“I think Richard knew something.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
Michael wrote the name down.
Charles continued.
“Emma told me she was going to confront someone that night.”
“Who?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
“Why?”
“She said she needed proof first.”
Grant’s voice cracked.
“And then she crashed.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Grant looked toward Rose.
She was coloring beside Daniel.
Unaware that adults were dismantling the story of her mother’s death ten feet away.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Charles’s answer was quiet.
“Because Emma made me promise.”
Grant nearly shouted.
“She died!”
“I know.”
“And you kept it secret.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated my life. Watched my daughter. Manipulated people around me.”
“Yes.”
“For her?”
“For Rose.”
“No.”
Grant’s anger became cold.
“You did it because you couldn’t control Emma.”
Charles went silent.
“She rejected you.”
Another silence.
“She told you to stay away.”
“Yes.”
“And when she died, you decided her wishes didn’t matter.”
Charles’s voice hardened.
“She was my daughter.”
“She was an adult.”
“I lost thirty-two years with her.”
“That wasn’t Rose’s fault.”
“No.”
“Yet you built a plan around taking her.”
Charles exhaled.
“I wanted access.”
“So you tried to destroy her father.”
“I wanted you to stop keeping her from her family.”
“You never asked.”
“I knew what you’d say.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“That is what controlling people always say.”
The line went silent.
Grant continued.
“If you cared about Emma, send the letters.”
“No.”
“Then don’t call me again.”
He ended the call.
Michael looked at him.
“Do you believe him about the accident?”
Grant stared at the floor.
“I don’t know.”
Then Margaret entered.
Her face was white.
“I heard Charles’s name.”
Grant looked up.
“You know.”
She began crying.
“Not everything.”
“Emma knew he was her father.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Grant stood.
“You knew that too.”
“Yes.”
“And never told me.”
“She begged me.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“Apparently my wife told everyone except me.”
Margaret flinched.
“She was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After she confronted Richard.”
Grant froze.
“What?”
Margaret’s tears stopped.
“She told me the night she died.”
May you like
Grant stared.
“Emma was going to meet Richard Vale.”
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