Chapter 8 - Julian’s Silence
The police escorted the screaming, kicking Helena down the center aisle.
Mourners parted like the Red Sea, turning their backs on her in silent disgust.
Her high heels dragged across the polished marble as she was pulled into the sunlight.
Outside, dozens of news cameras were already flashing.
The scandal of the century had just exploded on the church steps.
Inside the quieted sanctuary, only family and close friends remained.
The air was thick with the scent of crushed lilies and cold reality.
Ricardo set Bia gently down on the first pew.
Julian approached slowly, his face white as ash.
"Bia..." Julian reached out a trembling hand toward his daughter.
Bia pulled her knees up to her chest, clutching the torn cloth doll Penny.
She didn't reach back.
Ricardo stepped in front of Julian again, his expression unyielding.
"Where were you, Julian?" Ricardo asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"When my sister was vomiting blood at 3 AM, where were you?"
"I was at the office... Helena said it was food poisoning..." Julian choked out.
"Helena said," Ricardo repeated with bitter mockery.
"You were Clara's husband. Your job was to protect her."
"Instead, you let Helena run your house, your finances, and your child's life."
Julian sank to his knees, covering his face with his hands.
He began to weep uncontrollably, his shoulders shaking with genuine regret.
Whether it was regret for Clara, or regret for his own blindness, nobody knew.
Detective Miller walked back over, checking his notebook.
"Mr. Vance," the detective said, addressing Julian.
"We need you down at the precinct for formal questioning."
"We need to confirm whether you had any foreknowledge of the financial transfers."
Julian looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"I didn't know," Julian sobbed. "I swear on my daughter's life, I didn't know."
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"Let the forensic accountants decide that," Detective Miller replied coldly.
"Please come with us now."
