Chapter 2: After
Marcus pulled the tape from his father's mouth himself.
His hands were shaking.
Arthur's first word was not a name.
It was a number.
"Thirty-first."
Marcus leaned closer.
"Dad, what—"
"The thirty-first." Arthur's voice was cracked and low.
"The signing was set for the thirty-first.
That's when they needed me g*ne."
Marcus stood up slowly and turned around.
Susan hadn't moved.
She was still watching him the way she'd been watching him since the doors opened — measuring, calculating, waiting to see which version of this she still had a chance of surviving.
"The company," Marcus said.
It wasn't a question.
She said nothing.
"Dad's shares.
The transfer document on that table." He took one step toward her.
"That's what the signature tab is for."
Vincent made a sound — half breath, half word — and Susan's hand came up slightly, just enough to stop him.
Marcus looked at the table.
Then back at his sister.
"How long were you going to leave him in there?"
The brass clock kept ticking.
Susan's jaw moved.
What came out was quiet, and it was the worst thing she could have said.
"We were going to let him out.
After."
Eli was still crouched by the elevator doors, one hand resting on his grandfather's arm.
He looked up at his aunt.
She didn't look back at him.
---
What Susan said next — and what Marcus found inside that third folder — changes everything.
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The truth is worse than anyone in that room was ready for.
