Chapter 5 - THE WATCH AT 2:17
We left the Vance estate before sunrise.
Not because the night was over.
Because everyone finally understood it had only begun.
The police took statements.
The paramedics photographed my wrists.
The catering employee handed over his video.
Clover gave a statement too.
Isaac was not arrested that night, but he was ordered to remain available for questioning.
Arthur stayed behind.
So did Wendy.
I didn't ask why.
I didn't want them following us.
The Sterling family home stood three hours away.
I had not visited it in years.
My father’s study remained almost exactly as I remembered it.
Wood shelves.
Green leather chair.
Old globe.
Brass lamp.
And a locked cabinet where he had kept his watch collection.
Noah unlocked it.
The old silver watch was still there.
I picked it up.
The hands remained frozen at 2:17.
Marcus examined the back.
“There.”
A tiny indentation.
“Your father made this removable.”
Leo brought a magnifying glass.
Caleb brought a set of precision tools.
Noah stayed beside me.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
He smiled faintly.
“Good answer.”
We worked carefully.
The back of the watch opened.
Inside was not money.
Not jewelry.
A strip of microfilm.
Marcus stared.
“Your father was old-school.”
Leo laughed quietly.
“Dad always said computers forget too easily.”
Marcus held the film under the light.
“There are account numbers.”
“Can you read them?”
“Yes.”
His expression changed.
“These are Vance Construction accounts.”
Noah looked at him.
“From twenty-seven years ago?”
“Some.”
Marcus scrolled through the scanned images.
“Some are current.”
My stomach tightened.
“How could my father have current information?”
“He couldn't.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Unless someone kept updating the archive.”
A second discovery appeared.
A handwritten ledger.
My father had recorded every transfer from the original twenty-two-million-dollar loan.
And next to several payments were initials.
A.V.
Arthur Vance.
Marcus turned another page.
Then another.
The total came to seventeen million.
Arthur had repaid most of the loan.
Not all.
I felt confused.
“So Arthur wasn't lying.”
“No,” Marcus said.
“He wasn't telling the whole truth.”
The remaining five million had been converted into shares.
Shares that eventually became part of the Sterling trust.
Leo frowned.
“That means Flora doesn't owe Vance Construction.”
Marcus nodded.
“Legally, she may own part of it.”
I stared at him.
“Why would they use my name as collateral?”
“Because the trust shares were pledged without your authorization.”
“By Isaac?”
“Possibly.”
Noah shook his head.
“Too simple.”
Marcus agreed.
“Someone had access to the trust before Isaac.”
He turned another page.
There was a signature.
Not Isaac's.
Not Arthur's.
A woman’s signature.
Wendy Vance.
I looked at Noah.
“His mother.”
Marcus nodded.
Wendy had authorized a transfer twenty-four years ago.
The year Isaac was born.
I suddenly understood why she had looked terrified when the bracelet appeared.
“She knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“But why would she use it?”
Marcus pointed to another entry.
“Because your father helped her.”
“Helped her with what?”
“Her brother.”
Wendy's brother.
The same brother who had disappeared.
The room became silent.
Caleb checked an old newspaper archive.
Then he stopped.
“I found him.”
Everyone turned.
“Who?”
“Wendy's brother.”
He placed a photograph on the desk.
A young man standing beside Arthur Vance.
The caption described him as a former Vance executive.
“He didn't disappear,” Caleb said.
“He left the country.”
“Why?”
Caleb enlarged the article.
“After an internal financial dispute.”
Noah looked at Marcus.
“Can you find where he went?”
“Already did.”
Marcus pointed to a current address.
“Arizona.”
Leo frowned.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
My heart raced.
“Then we need to talk to him.”
Before anyone could move, my phone rang.
It was Wendy.
I almost didn't answer.
Then I did.
“Hello?”
Her voice was quiet.
“Flora, you found the watch.”
It wasn't a question.
“Yes.”
She breathed out.
“Then you know.”
“Not everything.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“Not yet.”
“Why did you use my mother's trust?”
“I didn't steal it.”
“Your signature is there.”
“I signed one document.”
“Why?”
“Because your father asked me to.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“He knew Arthur was desperate.”
She paused.
“And he knew my brother was being blamed for something he didn't do.”
I looked at Noah.
“Your father gave Wendy access to the trust so she could protect her brother.”
Wendy continued.
“He told me that someday, if the Vance family tried to take more than they were owed, the trust would expose them.”
“Then why did you let Isaac use it?”
“I didn't.”
“Someone did.”
Silence.
Then Wendy whispered,
“Flora, Isaac wasn't the person who started this.”
My entire body went cold.
“Who was?”
She began to answer.
Then the call ended.
Not because of a dropped connection.
Because someone had taken the phone from her.
I stood.
“No.”
Noah was already moving.
“We’re going back.”
But Marcus stopped him.
“Wait.”
He had found another document inside the watch casing.
A tiny folded note.
My father's handwriting.
It contained only one sentence.
Trust the person who was afraid to tell you.
I stared at it.
“Wendy.”
Noah nodded.
“Probably.”
Then Caleb looked up from his laptop.
“I found something else.”
“What?”
“Isaac's financial activity.”
Marcus joined him.
They examined the records.
Then both men went silent.
“What?”
Caleb turned the screen toward us.
For the past six months, Isaac had been transferring money into an account overseas.
Not to Clover.
Not to himself.
To a children's foundation.
I frowned.
“Why?”
Marcus opened the foundation records.
The beneficiaries were listed.
There were twelve children.
One name stood out.
Evan Sterling.
My breath stopped.
“I don't have a child named Evan.”
Noah looked at me.
“I don't either.”
Marcus opened the attached photograph.
A little boy.
Seven years old.
Brown hair.
A silver watch around his wrist.
The same watch design my father had worn.
I stared at the photograph.
Then Caleb said quietly,
“Flora…”
He zoomed in.
The child was holding a drawing.
Five stick figures stood beside a house.
May you like
At the bottom, in uneven handwriting:
MY FAMILY.
