Chapter 6 - The Basement File
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Every head in the room snapped toward my bed.
My throat burned with dehydration, but the adrenaline surging through my veins pushed the pain aside. I looked directly into Daniel's panicked eyes as the detective paused with the handcuffs dangling from his fingers.
"Check the digital folder on that tablet marked 'Basement'," I instructed Lena.
Daniel completely stopped struggling against the officer's grip. The sudden, rigid stillness in his body proved that the word Basement terrified him far more than the assault charges ever could.
Lena tapped the screen, opening a secondary file. The footage switched from the bright kitchen to the dim, blue-tinted night vision of our basement. The timestamp read 2:14 AM, exactly three weeks ago.
The video showed Daniel creeping into the basement, carrying an armful of manila folders stolen from my locked home office. He set them on a card table and began frantically photographing my trust documents, bank statements, and sealed court files from my old firm.
Then, a second man stepped out of the shadows and into the camera's view. He was older, wearing a heavy trench coat, and smoking a cigar despite the poor ventilation.
"Is that..." the first detective started, leaning closer to the screen in disbelief. "Is that Judge Malcolm Reed?"
It was. The very same federal judge who had mysteriously and controversially dismissed three massive corporate fraud cases against Daniel’s business partners over the last five years.
Lena inhaled sharply, staring at the screen.
Daniel turned his head slowly, staring at me as if he were looking at a complete stranger. The charming husband was gone; the ruthless criminal was entirely exposed.
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"You planned this," Daniel said, his voice a low, venomous hiss. "You set me up."
"No, Daniel," I replied softly. "I just survived long enough to document who you really are."
