Chapter 4 - The Price of a Father
Frank Bell entered the print shop alone with his hands raised. His hair had turned almost white since Nora had last seen him.
Frank used to be the parent who arrived early to school concerts and saved every crooked drawing Nora made. When she broke her wrist at twelve, he slept in the hospital chair and woke every time she moved. Both versions of him stood before her now: the father who stayed, and the man who kept selling pieces of their life to powerful people. Nora hated that she could still see the first one. It would have been easier if the second had erased him entirely. Instead she had to live with the terrible truth that love and cowardice could occupy the same person.
"Sweetheart," he said, "come with me."
"Why are you with those men?"
"Because you don't understand what they're capable of."
Eli stepped into view. Frank nearly collapsed. "They said you were dead."
"You knew that wasn't the whole story," Eli said.
Frank's eyes slid away. He had the look of a man who'd practiced apologizing but never considered telling the truth.
Nora moved closer. "Did you work with Grant?"
"I owed people money. After your mom died, the house was going. Grant's father offered help. First it was a loan. Then it was little favors. A signature here, a folder there."
"And my mother's music box?"
"I kept it safe."
"Where?"
His silence answered before he did. "Whitmore's private archive."
Nora felt something hard settle behind her ribs. She'd trusted Frank because he was all she had left. He'd watched her get engaged to a man whose family might have murdered her mother.
Frank began to cry. "Grant doesn't know everything his father did. I swear."
"Then why was Grant's security searching my place?"
"Because somebody told him the box contains a recording."
A voice floated from outside through the open door. "That's enough, Frank."
Grant stood beside the nearest SUV, no tie, hair mussed, his expression disturbingly calm.
"Nora," he said, "I want to save you from making the biggest mistake of your life."
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He raised a tablet. On the screen, Tessa was tied to a chair in another room, shaking. A timestamp showed the image was live.
"Give me Eli," Grant said, "or your best friend doesn't make it to morning."
