Chapter 10: Maya's Apartment
The silence inside Maya's small downtown apartment was heavier than any courtroom. Dust motes drifted lazily through the amber beams of streetlamps shining through the second-story window. After the chaos of the gala and Brenda's swift escort out of the ballroom, Maya had insisted we come here to secure the digital backups before the estate's corporate lawyers could raid her home.
Maya sank onto the floral sofa, her hands trembling as she poured two cups of black coffee from a chipped ceramic pot. She looked smaller tonight, stripped of the designer clothes and the polished demeanor she wore around the foundation's board members.
"I didn't know she was going to use a paralytic, Dad," Maya whispered, staring into the dark liquid of her mug. "Brenda told me Clara had signed a voluntary DNR waiver during her treatment at the clinic. She said it was just a quiet transfer of assets to protect the foundation from tax audits. I swear to God, I didn't know she put her in that box."
I sat in the armchair opposite her, holding my coffee cup without drinking. The exhaustion of the past forty-eight hours pressed against my temples like a lead weight, but my mind remained razor-sharp. "You stayed silent while she locked the vault, Maya. You took the red binder and ran through the cemetery because you were scared of what she'd do to your inheritance."
"I was scared she'd destroy me," Maya cried softly, burying her face in her hands. "She owns half the county development board. If I spoke up, I would have ended up in a cell right beside her—or worse."
She stood up abruptly, walked over to the faux-wood bookshelf, and slid a heavy encyclopedia aside. Behind it sat a small, black external hard drive wrapped in a rubber band. She handed it to me across the coffee table.
"Everything is on there," she said, her voice steadying. "Every financial transfer, every forged signature, and every phone call between Brenda and Dr. Sterling discussing the exact dosage of the drug that slowed Clara's heart rate just enough to pass the coroner's preliminary inspection."
I took the drive, feeling its cold plastic casing in my palm. It was the missing piece of the puzzle, the anchor that would keep Brenda from wriggling out of the charges on a legal technicality.
May you like
"We take this to the district attorney first thing in the morning," I said, looking up at my younger daughter. "You're going to have to testify before the grand jury, Maya. There's no hiding behind the foundation anymore."
She nodded slowly, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I know, Dad. I'm ready."
