Chapter 4 - The Exposure
The morning the story hit the front page, I was at the park with Ethan. He was pushing a plastic lawnmower, his laughter a bright, clear sound that anchored me.
My phone started ringing. It was Mark.
I answered. "Yes, Mark?"
"What did you do?" his voice was hysterical. "Caroline is in a panic! The police are at the office! They’re seizing everything! How did you—how did you even know about those accounts?"
"I don't miss much, Mark," I said, watching a seagull circle the pond. "You spent four years talking about your 'assets.' You forgot that I was listening."
"You’re going to prison for this! You stole that data!"
"Actually," I said, my voice calm, "it was all public record. If someone had bothered to check the filings, they would have seen it years ago. But nobody checks, do they? Everyone is too busy looking at the shiny surface."
"She’s going to destroy you, Rachel! She has friends!"
"She has friends who want to distance themselves from a tax-evader, Mark. Check the news again."
I hung up.
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The drama was just beginning. Caroline’s social circle—the people who had sipped champagne while my son cried—began to circle the drain. They were suddenly, aggressively, not "friends" anymore.
I was at the park, not in a bunker, but I felt the same cold satisfaction of watching a perimeter secure itself.
