Chapter 8 - You Used My Daughter
I crossed the office so quickly Nolan stepped backward.
“Did you know about this?”
His smile vanished. “Of course not.”
“You looked pleased.”
“I looked surprised.”
Nolan's jaw tightened.
I called Lakeview from the speakerphone.
Whitmore answered through his assistant.
“Charles,” I said, “remove that email from every system you control and issue a correction.”
“Daniel, we're protecting our community.”
“You used a photograph of my child without permission.”
“We cropped—”
“Not well enough.”
His voice cooled. “Maya has become fixated on your family. We're concerned she may exploit Sophie to gain access to you.”
Across the desk, Nolan studied his cufflinks.
I said, “Funny. Yesterday you wanted documents back. Today you want everyone afraid of the person carrying them.”
Whitmore went silent.
I ended the call.
Nolan stood again. “This is getting irrational. You're letting some homeless kid turn you against people who've worked with you for years.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Your access is suspended pending an audit.”
His face changed completely.
For the first time in fourteen years, I saw what lived underneath the charm.
“You can't do that because of an accusation from a street girl.”
“I can do it because I own the company.”
He leaned close.
“Be careful, Daniel. You have no idea how many signatures are yours.”
Then he walked out.
At noon, I took Maya and Evan to the Harold Washington Library. Maya led us to a bank of rental lockers on an upper floor.
Her key shook in the lock.
Inside was nothing.
Not a folder.
Not a flash drive.
Not even dust.
Maya stared.
“No. No, no, no.”
“When were you last here?” Evan asked.
“Four days ago.”
“Who knew?”
“No one.”
She hit the metal door with her palm. “I had copies of the donor ledger, student lists, emails—everything.”
A librarian approached. “Is there a problem?”
Evan showed identification. “Can we see security footage?”
The woman frowned. “Those lockers were emptied yesterday morning.”
Maya turned. “By who?”
“Maintenance request. The account was flagged as abandoned.”
“Who flagged it?”
The librarian checked her terminal.
Her eyebrows rose.
“That's strange.”
“What?” I asked.
“The request came from Lakeview Preparatory Academy.”
Maya covered her mouth.
Then Sophie called me from school.
She was whispering.
“Dad, don't be mad.”
My heart dropped.
“What happened?”
“I found something in Mom's old classroom box.”
“What?”
“A flash drive.”
Then I heard a man's voice behind her.
May you like
“Sophie Harrison, give me the phone.”
The line went dead.
