“You see, Ray,” David’s voice echoed through the phone line, cutting through my paralyzed silence. “Lucy found out you were funneling company money into private accounts years ago to prepare for a divorce. She knew you were going to leave her penniless. So she came to me. She showed me your medical charts. She reminded me that your shares of the company would ruin us if you went through a messy legal battle. We didn’t cheat you, Ray. We just liquidated you.”
“And the baby?” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You used a child?”
“Valerie wanted the Brickell condo and her 30% cut. I wanted full ownership of the firm. And Lucy… Lucy wanted justice,” David said. “But there’s one thing we didn’t plan for.”
David’s voice suddenly faltered, losing its icy composure. A genuine, palpable note of panic crept into his tone.
“What?” I demanded, gripping the phone so hard the screen began to crack. “What didn’t you plan for?”
“Lucy,” David said, his breath hitching. “She vanished two days ago. She cleaned out the joint corporate safety deposit box. But Ray… the text she sent you? About her own pregnancy test?
