Chapter 8 - HE TOOK SOPHIE
I don’t remember screaming.
Morales said I did.
I remember the elevator.
The flashing numbers.
The doors opening.
Running.
Police radios.
Hospital security.
An empty room.
Sophie’s blanket on the floor.
The officer assigned to the hallway had been found unconscious inside a supply closet.
A nurse had seen Sophie leave with a man wearing a physician’s coat.
Nobody questioned him.
He had paperwork.
A badge.
Confidence.
Preston had always understood one thing better than anyone I knew.
People rarely challenged someone who looked like they belonged.
The hospital cameras showed him taking Sophie through a loading entrance.
A black SUV waited outside.
License plate stolen.
Driver unidentified.
I stared at the footage.
Sophie looked terrified.
But she was walking.
Alive.
That was all I had.
My phone rang again.
Preston.
Morales began recording.
I answered.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“The trust.”
“Finally.”
“You can have it.”
Morales looked at me sharply.
I ignored her.
“Bring Sophie back.”
Preston laughed.
“You really are terrible at negotiating.”
“She’s eight.”
“And worth seventy-four million dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
“You don’t care about her at all.”
“I care about what she makes you do.”
There it was.
The entire truth of my childhood in one sentence.
Preston didn’t need to love anyone.
He only needed to know what they loved.
Then he used it.
“Where do you want me?”
“Our grandfather’s office.”
I opened my eyes.
“The hotel?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“What am I signing?”
“Everything.”
“And then Sophie walks out?”
“If you behave.”
The call ended.
Morales grabbed my arm.
“You’re not going alone.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
“He’ll hurt her.”
“He may hurt both of you.”
“Then give me another option.”
She didn’t have one.
Thomas did.
“The trust cannot legally be transferred under coercion.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“But Preston may not know something.”
“What?”
“Your grandfather included a duress clause.”
I stared at him.
“If a beneficiary is forced to transfer control under threat, the trust automatically freezes.”
“Does Preston know?”
“Raymond does.”
“Raymond is in custody.”
Thomas nodded.
“Then Preston may think your signature still gives him everything.”
For the first time, we had an advantage.
At 9:18 a.m., I entered my grandfather’s office alone.
At least Preston believed I was alone.
Morales had officers throughout the hotel.
Tiny microphones were hidden beneath my clothes.
The office looked exactly as we had left it.
Except for one thing.
A folder sat on the desk.
I opened it.
Transfer documents.
Then the phone rang.
The old desk phone.
I answered.
“Where’s Sophie?”
Preston laughed.
“Look outside.”
I went to the window.
Across the street stood another building.
An old parking structure.
On the top level, I saw a figure.
Small.
Sophie.
My knees almost collapsed.
A man stood behind her.
Not Preston.
My father.
I stared.
He had been missing since the previous day.
Now he was holding my daughter by the shoulder.
My phone vibrated.
Video call.
Preston appeared.
He was somewhere dark.
“You see her?”
“Yes.”
“Sign.”
I looked at the documents.
“You said you’d bring her here.”
“I lied.”
“Obviously.”
His smile vanished.
“You have five minutes.”
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
I sat at the desk.
Picked up the pen.
Then paused.
“You know what I never understood?”
“What?”
“Why Grandpa hated you.”
Preston’s face changed.
“He didn’t hate me.”
“He left me everything.”
“Because you manipulated him.”
“I was sixteen.”
“You were always his favorite.”
“No.”
I looked directly into the phone.
“I think he saw you.”
Preston’s jaw tightened.
“He saw exactly what you were.”
“Sign the papers.”
“Did that bother you?”
“Evelyn.”
“That an old man knew what Mom and Dad refused to admit?”
“Sign.”
“You were cruel.”
“Sign.”
“You were spoiled.”
“Sign!”
“And underneath all of it, you were weak.”
Preston exploded.
“SIGN THE DAMN PAPERS!”
His voice echoed.
Not only through my phone.
Through the wall behind me.
I froze.
Closer than you think.
I slowly looked toward the old bookcase.
There was another door.
Hidden.
My grandfather had shown it to me when I was a child.
A private passage connecting his office to the executive suite.
I had forgotten.
Preston was inside the hotel.
I stood.
The hidden door opened.
He stepped through.
No tuxedo now.
Black shirt.
Dark pants.
Gun in his hand.
“Enough games.”
I looked at the weapon.
Then at him.
“You’re scared.”
“Sit down.”
“You’ve been scared since that camera started blinking.”
He raised the gun.
“Sit.”
I did.
He pushed the documents toward me.
“Sign.”
I picked up the pen.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Morales.
DO NOT SIGN.
Preston saw it.
His expression changed.
He grabbed the phone.
Then looked at me.
“You brought police.”
I said nothing.
He smiled.
“Then Sophie pays for it.”
He called my father.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Preston frowned.
Then we heard sirens.
Not outside the hotel.
Across the street.
At the parking garage.
Preston ran toward the window.
Police vehicles surrounded the building.
His face twisted.
“No.”
I stood.
“It’s over.”
He spun toward me.
“You think so?”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
My father was screaming.
“They found us!”
Preston shouted,
“Take Sophie!”
Then another voice came through the phone.
My mother.
“No.”
Preston froze.
I froze.
My mother continued.
“I’m done.”
My father shouted something.
Then the call disconnected.
Preston stared at the phone.
May you like
For the first time in his life, someone who had always protected him had said no.
And he had no idea what to do next.
