Chapter 20 - The Unseen Shadow
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Six months after the trial ended, Derek was sentenced to twelve years in state prison without the possibility of parole for five, while Brenda received a four-year sentence for her role in the aggravated assault.
I moved three hundred miles away to a stunning coastal cottage overlooking the Pacific Ocean. My leg had healed remarkably well—the cast was gone, replaced by a faint, thin white scar along my shin that served as a daily reminder of my survival and strength.
I had launched my own independent consulting firm, successfully recovering every cent of my stolen inheritance through court-ordered asset liquidations.
It was a quiet, foggy Tuesday evening.
I was sitting on my front porch sipping a glass of red wine, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below.
My doorbell rang.
I walked over to the front door, checking the high-definition security camera monitor mounted beside the frame.
Standing on my porch was a courier wearing a plain black uniform, holding a small, unlabelled wooden box tied with a red ribbon.
I opened the door cautiously, keeping the screen door locked.
“Delivery for Abigail Vance?” the courier asked politely.
“It’s Abigail Harper now,” I corrected gently. “Who sent this?”
“No sender name listed, ma’am. It was paid for in cash at our downtown office.”
He set the wooden box on the porch table, handed me a digital signature pad, and walked quickly back to his unmarked van.
I stepped outside, picked up the box, and brought it into my kitchen.
Using a small pocketknife, I cut the red ribbon and lifted the wooden lid.
Inside lay a single, gleaming silver USB drive resting on a bed of black velvet, along with a handwritten note written on heavy parchment paper.
I unfolded the note. The handwriting was elegant, precise, and completely unfamiliar:
Abigail,
Derek was an amateur who let his pathetic mother ruin a very lucrative arrangement. He was merely the tool we used to access your company's network.
The files on this drive contain proof of who really ordered the hit on your father's estate ten years ago.
If you want the truth, plug it in. If you want peace, throw it in the ocean.
May you like
The choice is yours.
I stared at the silver drive resting in the box, my breath hitching in my throat, as the sound of the ocean wind howled outside my window.
