Chapter 6 - THE MAN INSIDE THE HOUSE
Pritchard’s financial records answered one question.
For six years, someone had been paying him through consulting companies that never performed identifiable work.
The transfers traced eventually to a foundation subcontractor.
The Whitmore Foundation.
Sebastian’s organization.
Nathaniel stared at the records without speaking.
Claire watched him.
“You knew there was a chance.”
“I knew there were questions.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
Nathaniel looked suddenly older.
“Sebastian raised us.”
That was the wound beneath the scars.
Not fear of the truth.
Fear that the truth might wear the face of someone he loved.
Pritchard had access to household schedules, archived company files, and Nathaniel’s study. He would have known exactly when Claire arrived, when Lily visited, and when the drawer began being opened regularly.
Eric wasn’t watching the mansion alone.
He had someone inside.
Claire asked the question Nathaniel avoided.
“Did Sebastian know Julian was investigating the containers?”
Nathaniel rubbed his thumb along the cane handle.
“I don’t know.”
“But you suspect it.”
“I suspect everyone who survived that night with more money than questions.”
That included his uncle.
Later, Lily found Nathaniel alone in the library.
Claire watched from the doorway without interrupting.
Lily sat beside him and pointed to his leg brace.
“Does that scar hurt too?”
“Sometimes.”
“Mom says bodies remember bad things.”
Nathaniel looked toward Claire.
“Your mother says many intelligent things.”
Lily nodded proudly.
Then she handed him a purple crayon.
“For when you need a happy color.”
Nathaniel took it as solemnly as if she had handed him a diamond.
That tiny moment hardened Claire’s decision.
She would go to Pier Eleven.
But not as bait.
As part of the plan.
When she told Nathaniel, he immediately said no.
“Eric expects me.”
“That is exactly why you cannot go.”
“He threatened my daughter.”
“And that is exactly why—”
“Nathaniel.”
He stopped.
Claire stepped closer.
“For months, everybody has made decisions around me because they think being poor, scared, or a mother means I will always choose the safest corner.”
She placed the copied ledger on the table.
“I am done standing in corners.”
Nathaniel studied her.
Then nodded once.
“Fine.”
Claire blinked.
“That easily?”
“No.”
He handed her a small earpiece.
May you like
“You are going with six layers of protection you will never see.”
That sounded more like him.
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