Chapter 13 - The Truth Behind the Faded Jacket
That evening, the executive mansion was warm and quiet.
Rain tapped against the leaded glass windows of the private library.
Emily sat on the plush sofa, wearing fresh clothes, holding a mug of hot chamomile tea.
Her mother sat beside her, gently dabbing antiseptic on the small scratches near Emily’s hairline.
“You were brave today, Em,” Eleanor said softly, her eyes glistening with pride and lingering worry.
“I was terrified, Mom,” Emily admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“When Brianna grabbed my hair... I almost gave up.”
“I almost dropped the recorder.”
Eleanor hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek.
“Your father would have been so proud of you.”
Emily looked over at the olive-green field jacket hanging by the fire to dry.
It wasn't from a donation bin.
It was her father’s military surplus jacket from his deployment overseas fifteen years ago.
He had worn it when he walked her to her very first day of kindergarten before cancer took him.
That was why Emily wore it every day.
It was her armor against a world full of people who valued surfaces over souls.
“Thorne changed my transcript three times, Mom,” Emily said, pulling out a flash drive from her pocket.
“He tried to lower my GPA so Brianna would get the state governor’s scholarship.”
Eleanor chuckled—a cold, ironic laugh.
“The irony of Harold Thorne trying to manipulate a scholarship bearing my office’s name is extraordinary.”
“The Attorney General called twenty minutes ago.”
“Richard Vance has been denied bail due to flight risk.”
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“Brianna’s juvenile hearing is set for Friday morning.”
“She won't be going to Harvard, Emily. She won’t even be graduating high school this year.”
