Chapter 7 - The Countdown
For the next seventy-two hours, David and I worked out of my small apartment, converting my living room wall into a massive evidence board tied together by red string, bank statements, and patient intake logs.
With David’s internal knowledge of the Vance family structures and my forensic accounting expertise, we unlocked the final piece of the puzzle: the offshore accounts weren't just storing stolen funds; they were paying off state health inspectors to falsify compliance reports for Vance Healthcare.
On Thursday evening, Marcus Reed met us secretly at a quiet diner on the outskirts of the city. He reviewed our findings, his fingers tracing the intricate line of money leading from Grant’s personal shell companies directly to the bribery funds.
"This is rock solid," Marcus whispered, looking up at us with grim satisfaction. "It’s enough for a federal indictment from the Department of Justice. But we need to serve the arrest warrants when all key players are present, or Grant’s legal team will file for immediate bail and shred the remaining hard drives at their corporate headquarters."
"The wedding," I realized instantly. "Saturday afternoon at Saint Jude's Cathedral. Every executive, investor, and co-conspirator will be in that sanctuary."
Marcus nodded slowly. "If we execute the warrants there, no one gets away. But Clara... your family will be standing right beside him. The fallout will be total."
May you like
I closed my eyes, picturing my mother’s proud tears, my father’s arrogant posture, and Vanessa’s blinding vanity. They had sacrificed truth on the altar of status.
"Serve the warrants," I said, opening my eyes. "Let the truth come out."
