Chapter 11
Ethan's fourth birthday was six weeks before the crash.
Small party.
Family only.
Claire planned it.
Of course she did.
I remembered cake.
Balloons.
Ethan refusing to wear a paper crown.
And one strange moment.
I had become dizzy after champagne.
Very dizzy.
I left early.
Nathan examined me at home.
Said exhaustion.
Now I looked at my sister.
“What happened?”
Claire laughed.
“Nothing.”
Gavin smiled.
“She always says that.”
Claire turned on him.
“You weren't there.”
“No.”
He nodded toward Malcolm.
“But he told me.”
Malcolm closed his eyes.
Another crack.
I looked at him.
“What happened?”
Silence.
Gavin answered.
“Sedative in her drink.”
Nathan went pale.
“What?”
“Not enough to kill.”
Claire snapped:
“Because it wasn't meant to.”
I stared.
She realized.
Again.
Too late.
“What was it meant to do?”
Claire's face hardened.
“To embarrass you.”
I almost laughed.
“Try again.”
She folded her arms.
“You were supposed to stumble.”
“In front of who?”
“Senior men.”
There.
I understood.
Make the boss look impaired.
Unstable.
Weak.
Not enough to remove me.
Enough to start a story.
Claire continued.
“You always had to look perfect.”
“Did I?”
“You walked into rooms and people straightened.”
Her mouth twisted.
“You never even tried.”
There.
Jealousy.
Old.
Personal.
I stared.
“You drugged me because people respected me.”
“I gave you something to relax.”
I laughed.
“No.”
“You were tense.”
“I was hosting my son's birthday.”
“And still answering calls.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You made everything look easy.”
I watched her.
The resentment had nothing to do with the organization now.
Sisters.
Childhood.
Comparison.
She continued.
“Mom praised you.”
“Our mother died nine years ago.”
“Exactly.”
Claire's voice sharpened.
“She died thinking you were the strong one.”
Silence.
I almost pitied her.
Then I remembered Ethan's wrist in her hand.
No.
Claire continued.
“I was older.”
“Yes.”
“I advised this family before you finished college.”
“Yes.”
“Then Dad chose you.”
I stared.
“He didn't choose me because I was younger.”
“No.”
Her eyes flashed.
“He chose you because men liked listening to you.”
“And?”
“You became head.”
There.
Not strategy.
Wound.
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“You told me this was about reform.”
Claire turned.
“It was.”
“No.”
He smiled without humor.
“You hated your sister.”
Claire stared.
“At least I didn't marry her.”
Ryan's face hardened.
Good.
They were running out of loyalty faster than oxygen.
I looked at Gavin.
“Was the birthday the first attempt?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Claire's face changed.
I turned.
“What else?”
Gavin looked at Malcolm.
Then Ryan.
“Nobody told you?”
Ryan stared.
“Tell us.”
Gavin shrugged.
“Warehouse stairs.”
My memory flashed.
Three months before the crash.
A railing gave way at the east warehouse.
I caught myself before falling two stories.
Everyone called it rust.
I looked at Malcolm.
He said nothing.
“Was it cut?”
Gavin nodded.
“Bolts loosened.”
My blood went cold.
Ryan turned to Malcolm.
“You were already trying?”
Malcolm stared.
“Before you.”
Silence.
Ryan had not started the plot.
He had joined it.
Claire too.
Victor and Malcolm had been testing ways to remove me before either recruited my husband.
I looked at Ryan.
“When did they approach you?”
He said nothing.
“After the warehouse?”
Silence.
Claire answered.
“Yes.”
Ryan glared.
She shrugged.
“What? We're beyond secrets.”
I looked at Malcolm.
“You failed once.”
Nothing.
“Then used my marriage.”
Nothing.
“You found Ryan's resentment.”
Nothing.
“Claire's jealousy.”
Her face tightened.
“And built the next attempt through people I trusted.”
Malcolm finally smiled.
“That's what leadership is.”
I almost laughed.
“No.”
“What?”
“That is what cowardice looks like when it wears a suit.”
His smile disappeared.
Good.
Then Nathan entered.
He looked shaken.
“What?”
He held Ethan's phone.
“I listened to the oldest recording.”
I stared.
“Oldest?”
“He recorded before you told him to.”
My chest tightened.
“How?”
Nathan looked toward Ethan's lounge.
“He records himself playing sometimes.”
Children.
Of course.
He had accidentally captured things before my secret instruction.
Nathan pressed PLAY.
Ethan's little voice:
“Spaceship one goes here…”
Then a door.
Ryan.
Claire.
From six days before the crash.
Ryan:
“If the warehouse didn't scare her, the bridge will.”
Claire:
“And Ethan?”
Pause.
Ryan:
“He stays with me.”
Claire laughed.
“Until Victor decides otherwise.”
I looked at Ryan.
His face had gone white.
Even before the crash, they were discussing where my son would go after my death.
May you like
This was never only about killing me.
They had already divided my child too.
