James sat across from his mother, trying to read her expression, though it remained as unreadable as ever. His hands rested on his knees, fingers stiff, his entire body tense with the weight of the question he had just asked. He repeated himself slowly, as if saying it again would make the absurdity of the situation sink in for her."Betty said she's pregnant. She claims it's mine. Tell me she’s lying."Agnes didn’t speak immediately. She adjusted the sleeves of her blouse, then set down her cup of tea. The silence between them stretched too long. She looked at him, her face calm but with that usual undercurrent of something distant. Then she gave a slow nod.“She is pregnant.”James blinked, unsure he had heard right. His stomach dropped, and for a moment, he felt like he had lost balance though he was still in the chair. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but shaking."You knew?"Agnes sighed, the kind that carried no regret, only a kind of tired patience. "She came to me
The house in his hometown had not been touched in years, but James walked in like it was yesterday. The air was stale and cold, the furniture covered in white sheets that had yellowed at the corners. He didn't bother uncovering them. He went straight to the den, the room that once held his father's books and his mother’s piano. Now, it would serve a new purpose. He dropped his bag, pulled out the folders Amanda had given him, and placed them on the desk like pieces of a puzzle he had been waiting years to solve.He opened the laptop he had brought with him, quickly connecting to the old Wi-Fi that miraculously still worked. He pulled up old articles he had downloaded, scanned through notes he had made, and opened the case files the private investigator had begun compiling. With every new connection he made, with every name that matched between financial records and the fire report, he felt something tighten in his chest. He was chasing the truth, and it felt closer than ever. He
The morning sun streamed through the wide glass windows of Agnes’s office, illuminating the room with a soft golden hue, but there was nothing warm about her. The elegance of the space, the carefully curated art pieces, the fresh orchids on her desk, did little to mask the storm brewing inside her. She stood at her desk, stiff-backed, her manicured fingers gripping the edges of the latest security update spread out before her. The report was detailed, professionally compiled, and every word in it seemed to mock her. James and Amanda were not just back in contact, they were rebuilding something—something real—and worse, James had begun seriously looking into Amanda’s parents' deaths, and their family connection to it. And the police were also still looking into Kendall.Agnes didn’t speak for a long time. She just stared, jaw tight, the sound of her own breathing loud in the silent room. Her polished composure cracked. The loud thud of her fist against the desk echoed. Papers shifte
Charles stood in his living room, the entire space silent except for the faint hum of the city below. The lights from the skyscrapers flickered across the window, casting long shadows behind him. He held a glass of whiskey in his hand, but it remained untouched. The amber liquid swirled gently with every twitch of his fingers, forgotten in his grasp.He wasn’t tired, though he hadn’t really slept. His thoughts ran in endless loops. James's name lingered the most. The way Amanda had defended him, the way her face had lit up when she mentioned his efforts, had left an unfamiliar ache in Charles’s chest. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was something heavier, something more unsettling. Guilt.For years, he had crafted a version of events that allowed him to sleep at night. Amanda had been hurt before. James had betrayed her trust and Kendall had been left vulnerable. Charles had told himself again and again that what he was doing was a necessary evil, a means of balancing what had been bro
The room was quiet, but James’s thoughts were not. He stood over a long table pushed against the wall in his office, the surface covered with files, envelopes, and stacks of old newspapers. On the far end, his laptop blinked to life, displaying public records and archived police reports. Every corner of the room now looked like it belonged to someone obsessed with a mystery, and in a way, that was true.James pressed his palms on the table, scanning the headlines again. The fire. The bankruptcy. Names he had never noticed before began to stand out now. Details he had once considered unimportant seemed to hold weight. He pulled out his phone and opened a secure contact list. It had been years since he had called some of these people. Former investigators. Legal contacts. Friends in forensic accounting. People who owed him favors and people who had once trusted him to deliver in times of uncertainty.He tapped the first number. The voice on the other end was groggy, but familiar."Jam
Two days have passed since everything came to light and everyone involved got arrested.It's been two days of happiness and sadness for Amanda. Remembering what Charles has done and also reuniting with her daughter left her having double emotions. Having thought about it all for some time, Amanda decided it was time she visited Charles to know why he had done what he did.James opted to drive her there, he also wanted to see Charles and ask him questions when Amanda told him about her decision to visit Charles in prison.Two hours later when they got to the jail where Charles was being held, awaiting trial. Amanda sat waiting for Charles who was being escorted by the police officer to the visiting room, her heart racing with anticipation and anger. She had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity in her heart – the moment she would finally confront Charles, the man responsible for ruining her life. The man who she had thought was a friend unknown to her was being pa