Chapter 11 - The Mother at the Table
"He's using Mom," Ethan said.
Olivia read the message. "Or she's using him. We don't know yet."
He hated that she could say it. He hated more that he couldn't dismiss it.
Ethan's mother, Beatrice, had spent a lifetime serving dinner to men who decided what everyone else was allowed to know. She smiled in photographs and never spoke at board meetings. When Daniel died, she didn't cry at the funeral. She stared at the ground as if listening to something buried.
Agent Sofia Reed answered Mara's call on the third ring. Her voice was low and clipped. "I've been waiting for a witness with original files. Keep the child with you. I'm sending a vetted team."
"My mother is hostage," Ethan said.
"Then your father is forcing a meeting. Don't give him one without backup."
They went anyway, but Reed's team entered through the service tunnels. Ethan walked into the ballroom alone, one fist closed around the pink ribbon Lily had given him.
Beatrice sat beneath the chandelier, wrists bound loosely with silk. Charles stood beside her holding a champagne flute.
"You're late," he said.
"Where's Daniel's complete file?" Ethan demanded.
Charles sighed. "Your brother was a brilliant boy with terrible judgment. He thought every problem had a clean answer."
"You killed him."
"I protected a company that feeds thousands of families."
Beatrice lifted her head. "Charles, stop."
"You stay out of this."
She stood. The silk fell from her wrists. Ethan realized the knots had never been tied.
"I invited you here," Beatrice said. "Not your father."
Charles turned toward her, anger flashing at last. "What have you done?"
Beatrice reached into the pocket of her champagne-colored gown and placed a thin notebook on the table. "Daniel gave this to me the night before he died. I was too afraid to use it."
May you like
Ethan reached for the notebook. His mother's hand stopped him.
"Before you read it," she whispered, "you need to know who really ordered the injection.
