Chapter 11 - Refuge at the Lake
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By noon the following day, the hospital doctors reluctantly signed my discharge papers under the condition that I remain on strict bed rest.
Grant remained in police custody, his bail hearing delayed as prosecutors reviewed the disturbing video footage recorded by his colleague during the party.
Samuel took me straight to his secluded lake house—a sprawling wooden estate surrounded by dense pine forests and frozen waters. Officer Torres had arranged for a private security detail to guard the property entrance, ensuring Grant’s wealthy family or legal team couldn't come near me.
Dana Brooks met us at the house, carrying a small leather bag containing my essential clothes and a flash drive.
“What’s on the drive, Dana?” I asked as we sat in Samuel’s warm, firelit living room.
“The complete, unedited video from Christmas Day,” Dana said, handing the drive to Samuel. “Mark Jensen was recording the holiday decorations, but the camera caught Grant dragging you toward the kitchen and shoving you. The audio is crystal clear. He can’t deny it, Natalie.”
“Thank you, Dana,” I said softly. “You risked your career at the firm by giving us this.”
“Grant ruined his own career the second he laid a hand on you,” Dana said fiercely. “The partners held an emergency board meeting this morning. Grant has been officially suspended, and they are launching an internal audit into his client accounts.”
After Dana left, Samuel walked into his private study and unlocked a floor-level safe behind a row of law books. He pulled out a faded yellow envelope and brought it to the dining table.
“This arrived at my office twenty-four years ago,” Samuel said, placing it in front of me. “It was the last communication I ever received from your brother Caleb.”
I opened the envelope with trembling fingers. Inside was a single piece of lined paper written in the same sharp cursive from the hospital card:
Uncle Samuel,
May you like
I know what they will say about me. Do not believe them. I moved the Northstar funds to delay project Lighthouse. Natalie’s father helped me, but we ran out of time. Keep Birdie away from the company until the trust transfers. Someone is watching us.
The compass points to where the truth was buried. You have the first half. I left the second where Birdie will remember.
