Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Ledger
“What do you mean, he’s the reason I had to die?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, yet it felt heavy enough to shatter the room.
The security guards had paused, unsure of what to do as the billionaire’s polished facade crumbled. Ethan stared at the crumpled crayon drawing in Madison’s hand, his shoulders shaking.
“Ethan,” I stepped closer, ignoring Madison entirely. “Look at me. Do I have a grandson?”
He nodded slowly, tears finally spilling over his eyelashes. “He’s six years old, Mom. His name is Leo.”
Six years. The math hit me like a physical blow. Six years ago was exactly when Ethan suddenly stopped visiting the diner. It was when the phone calls slowed to a trickle, when Madison took over all his communications, and when the press releases quietly announced my tragic passing.
“Why would you hide a child from me?” I asked, the betrayal twisting like a knife in my chest. “I loved you more than anything. I would have loved him just as much.”
“Because your love isn’t enough to fix him, Ruth!” Madison snapped. She shoved the drawing back into her damaged clutch. “Leo isn’t a normal boy. He’s fragile. He has needs. Needs that require the best specialists in the world, not some greasy-spoon diner waitress filling his head with working-class mediocrity.”
“That’s enough, Madison,” Ethan said, finding a fraction of his spine.
“Is it?” Henry interjected. The head chef reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a folded sheaf of financial printouts. “Because I’ve been quietly pulling the catering budgets for the last three months trying to figure out why my kitchen was always short-changed. I found the shadow accounts.”
He unfolded the papers and held them up.
“The memorial fund money isn’t going to pediatric research or a hospital,” Henry said, his eyes locked on Ethan. “It’s being wired every month to a private holding company called The Sterling Institute.”
Ethan looked confused. “Madison told me the Institute was an exclusive, specialized care facility in Switzerland. She said they needed anonymous funding to protect Leo’s privacy.”
“It’s not in Switzerland, Ethan,” Henry said softly. “I ran the tax ID. The Sterling Institute is a private estate in upstate New York. And it’s owned by Madison’s father.”
The color drained from Ethan’s face. “What?”
“She’s not treating your son,” I realized, staring at the cold, calculating woman my son had married. “She’s hiding him. And using my name to pay her own family to keep him locked away.”
Madison let out a sharp, cruel laugh. “You people are so dramatic. Leo is perfectly fine. He’s receiving an elite education, far away from the pathetic, sentimental garbage you would have infected him with.”
She turned to Ethan, her voice turning into a serrated blade. “You want to play the devoted son? Fine. But if you walk out of this room with her, I will file for full custody. You know my father’s lawyers will destroy you. You’ll never see Leo again.”
Ethan froze. The threat paralyzed him.
I couldn’t let her win. “Where is the estate, Henry?” I asked.
“Pine Valley,” Henry said.
Madison sneered. “You’ll never get past the gates.”
I turned my back on her and looked at my son. “Ethan, I am going to find my grandson. Are you coming with me?”
Ethan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. He pulled it out, his eyes widening at the caller ID. It was the estate.
He put it on speaker. “Hello?”
A woman’s panicked voice echoed through the phone. “Mr. Bennett? It’s the night nurse. I’m so sorry. I only turned my back for a minute.”
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“What happened?” Ethan demanded.
“It’s Leo, sir. His window was open. He’s gone.”
