Chapter 8 - Rebecca's Final Lie
I confronted Rebecca in my office.
No police.
No shouting.
Just us.
I played the video.
She watched without blinking.
When it ended, she said:
"I wondered when you'd find that."
"Explain."
"I was helping Linda."
My stomach dropped.
Then she continued.
"Against Voss."
Rebecca had discovered Linda's secret archive two years earlier.
She realized Linda possessed evidence connecting Voss to multiple illegal acquisitions.
Rebecca wanted it because of her brother.
Linda wanted revenge.
They formed an alliance.
"Did you know she was targeting me?"
"Not at first."
"When did you learn?"
Rebecca looked ashamed.
"Six months ago."
"And you stayed quiet."
"I thought I could control her."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everybody thought they could control Linda."
"Yes."
"Did you know about the $840,000?"
"No."
"The threats?"
"No."
"Ryan?"
"I knew she was manipulating him."
"And you didn't tell me."
Rebecca's eyes filled.
"I wanted Voss."
There it was.
Her revenge had mattered more than my safety.
Just like Linda's.
Different target.
Same poison.
I asked for her resignation.
She gave it without argument.
At the door, she stopped.
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
"I really do love you, Emily."
I almost laughed.
That sentence had become terrifying.
"Then you should've trusted me with the truth."
She nodded.
And left.
Losing Rebecca hurt almost as much as losing Ryan.
Maybe more.
Friendship betrayal has a different shape.
There is no marriage contract to dissolve.
No courtroom to tell you what belongs to whom.
Just memories you suddenly don't know how to categorize.
Weeks passed.
Hartwell stabilized.
Voss was indicted.
Ryan accepted a plea related to unauthorized computer access and financial misconduct, though prosecutors credited his cooperation and the fact the money had ultimately protected Hartwell's supply chain.
Linda remained missing.
Until Sophie disappeared.
It happened on a Thursday.
School called at 3:22.
Sophie had been picked up.
"By whom?"
"Her grandmother."
My blood stopped.
"Linda is not authorized."
Silence.
"Mrs. Hartwell, the authorization was submitted electronically this morning."
Forgery.
Again.
Police mobilized immediately.
Security footage showed Linda.
New hair.
Glasses.
Rental car.
Sophie walked beside her willingly.
Of course she did.
She loved her grandmother.
She didn't know the whole truth.
I called Sophie's phone.
Off.
Then mine rang.
Linda.
"Where is she?"
"Safe."
"If you touch her—"
"I would never hurt Sophie."
"You already have."
Silence.
Then:
"Bring Caroline's recording."
"No."
"Then you don't get your daughter."
Every part of me wanted to scream.
Instead, I remembered something my mother had written.
Linda wanted me to lose control.
So I didn't.
"Where?"
"The old factory."
"One hour."
I hung up.
Police said absolutely not.
I said absolutely yes.
We compromised.
I went wired.
Agents surrounded the area.
The cassette in my purse was a copy.
At the abandoned factory, Linda stood beneath broken windows.
Sophie sat in a chair twenty feet away.
Unhurt.
"Mom!"
I almost ran.
Linda raised a hand.
"No."
I stopped.
"Let her go."
"The recording."
I held it up.
"First Sophie."
Linda smiled.
"You sound like Caroline."
"Good."
Her face changed.
That landed.
"You think your mother was innocent?"
"No."
Linda blinked.
I continued.
"She was scared. Dad was scared. They made mistakes."
"You know nothing."
"I know Thomas wanted the truth exposed."
"Don't say his name."
"He wouldn't recognize you."
Linda's face twisted.
"Shut up."
"He wouldn't want this."
"SHUT UP!"
There.
The rage.
The wound beneath everything.
"You spent thirty-nine years punishing the wrong people."
Tears filled her eyes.
"Your mother got everything."
"She lost her best friend."
"She got a company."
"She got cancer."
Linda flinched.
"She died at fifty-one."
Silence.
"Nobody won, Linda."
For the first time, she looked old.
Not frightening.
Not powerful.
Just exhausted.
Sophie whispered:
"Grandma?"
Linda turned.
Sophie was crying.
"Why are you being mean to Mom?"
Linda's face collapsed.
That question did what police, evidence, and decades couldn't.
She looked at her granddaughter.
Then at me.
Slowly, Linda lowered the gun I hadn't realized she was holding behind her coat.
Agents shouted.
She dropped it.
I ran to Sophie.
Linda was arrested.
As officers led her away, she looked back.
"Emily."
I held Sophie tighter.
"What?"
"Your mother really did love me."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
Linda closed her eyes.
Then she was gone.
I thought that was the end.
It wasn't.
Because when police searched Linda's rental car, they found a sealed letter.
Addressed to Ryan.
Inside was a DNA test.
And when Ryan saw the results, he called me from his attorney's office.
His voice was barely audible.
"Emily..."
May you like
"What?"
"Linda isn't my biological mother."
