Chapter 7 - The Doctor's Leverage
The air in the hallway grew thick and oppressive as Dr. Harrison Vance strolled casually toward the threshold of the master suite, his polished leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the pristine carpet as if he owned the estate. Sarah stood her ground near the bedroom entrance, her shoulders squared beneath her silk blouse, though her hands were clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles were entirely bloodless. You are trespassing, Harrison, and if you think a handful of old psychiatric files gives you the right to blackmail this family, you severely underestimate what Jonathan will do when he gets back from downtown, Sarah warned, her voice vibrating with a dangerous mix of fear and defiance. Harrison paused just a foot away from her, his cold, calculating eyes scanning Sarah's face before drifting past her shoulder into the darkened interior of the master bedroom where Maya stood frozen in place. Oh, Sarah, let's not resort to childish threats about your husband's corporate muscle, Harrison replied smoothly, his tone dripping with patronizing amusement. Jonathan is a smart man, a pragmatist; he understands that protecting his multi-million-dollar portfolio and his freedom takes precedence over digging up the rotting remains of a mentally unstable sister-in-law who legally didn't exist on paper for the last three years of her life anyway. Maya felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat at the casual, sociopathic cruelty with which Harrison dismissed a human life. Step away from the door, Harrison commanded softly, his demeanor shifting in a split second from charmingly arrogant to icy and menacing as he took a step forward. Where are the contents of the car's glove compartment, Sarah? Where are Clara's personal journals and the digital flash drives she stole from my private office the night she escaped from the facility? Sarah didn't flinch, holding her ground with a stubborn courage that surprised even Maya. They went down with her, Harrison, they spent eight years dissolving in chlorinated sludge at the bottom of a concrete basin, Sarah spat back, a bitter triumph lacing her words. You're too late; whatever secrets you thought you buried with those files are gone for good. Harrison stared at her for a long, agonizing moment, his expression unreadable, searching her face for any sign of a bluff. Then, a slow, unpleasant smile spread across his thin lips, and he shook his head slightly. You truly believe your husband is competent, don't you, Sarah? You think Jonathan managed the cleanup all by himself that night, that he was the one who rewired the automated pool drainage system and welded the heavy steel security grates over the basin? Sarah's brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine confusion cutting through her defiant facade. What are you talking about? Jonathan did it himself while I stayed inside with the children. Harrison let out a soft, mocking laugh, turning his gaze slightly toward the hallway where Lily's bedroom door remained cracked open an inch. Jonathan didn't build that drainage system, Sarah, because Jonathan wasn't even here when Clara drove her car into the pool; he was three states away at a corporate retreat, and he didn't fly back until twelve hours after the crash had already been neatly packaged and hidden away by someone else. Sarah staggered backward as if she had been physically shoved, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle a gasp. No... that's impossible... Jonathan told me... Jonathan told you what he needed to believe to keep you compliant while someone else pulled the strings from the shadows, Harrison interrupted smoothly, taking another step forward into the master suite. And right now, those files aren't at the bottom of the pool at all, because your clever little babysitter over there—he glanced directly at Maya with a piercing gaze—is holding them right in her trembling hands. Maya froze, her heart stopping dead in her chest as Harrison's eyes locked onto her with predatory intent.
