Chapter 9 - The Phone in Michael’s Pocket
Michael’s phone contained spyware installed before the crash.
Someone had been listening through his microphone for a year.
The account controlling it belonged to Ward Legal Group.
Helen’s firm.
Helen closed her eyes when Adrian confronted her.
“I can explain.”
He laughed.
“Everyone can.”
Helen admitted installing monitoring software at Claire’s request.
“Claire thought Michael was being followed.”
“So she spied on her husband?”
“With his knowledge.”
Michael’s memory returned.
“Yes.”
He rubbed his temple.
“I agreed.”
The account had remained active automatically.
Someone at Helen’s firm accessed it after Michael resurfaced.
The login belonged to Helen’s junior partner, David Kessler.
Judge Kessler’s son.
Another branch of the same rotten tree.
David disappeared before police arrived.
He had spent years pretending to help Helen investigate his father while
secretly feeding information back to Saint Agnes.
His motive was money.
Evelyn had promised him control of the foundation after her death.
Police tracked him to the old Parker mansion.
Adrian went with them.
Christmas lights still glowed across the roof.
Inside, David held no hostages.
He was destroying records.
When officers entered, he ran.
Adrian caught him in the ballroom.
David swung a fireplace tool.
Adrian dodged and drove him to the floor.
No theatrical execution.
No revenge.
Handcuffs.
That mattered.
“You think arresting me fixes anything?” David spat.
“No.”
“Saint Agnes existed before me.”
“I know.”
“It’ll exist after.”
“Maybe.”
David laughed.
“Children with money will always attract adults who want it.”
Adrian looked down at him.
“Then adults like me will need work.”
The final files contained enough evidence to dismantle Saint Agnes.
Dozens of former residents were located.
A restitution process began.
Brent faced charges involving fraud, abuse, unlawful confinement, and
conspiracy.
Evelyn faced financial and conspiracy charges.
Reese lost his license.
David Kessler was charged with obstruction and illegal surveillance.
Wynn voluntarily testified about his own failures.
He was not innocent either.
He had protected the old Saint Agnes program too long because he feared
exposing children’s identities.
Adrian asked him, “What happens to us?”
Wynn smiled sadly.
“You stop needing a teacher.”
On Christmas morning Lily woke at five.
Adrian was asleep on the sofa.
She placed a blanket over him.
He opened one eye.
“You’re terrible at sneaking.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.”
“What time is it?”
“Christmas.”
“That is not a time.”
“It is today.”
Michael appeared from the hallway.
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
For the first time, Lily had her father back.
Yet she kept glancing at Adrian.
He noticed.
“What?”
“Are you leaving?”
The question was small.
He sat up.
“Eventually.”
Her face fell.
“But not today.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
She frowned.
“I hired you until Christmas.”
“You did.”
“So contract over.”
“Technically.”
She retrieved the jar of coins.
“Renewal.”
Adrian laughed.
Michael smiled.
“How much?”
“Seven dollars. I bought presents.”
Adrian looked at Michael.
Then Lily.
“I’ll negotiate.”
She hugged him.
Noah came running in.
“Presents!”
Sophie followed more cautiously.
For a few hours they were simply people around a tree.
At noon Michael gave Adrian a package.
Inside was the old black-ring photograph.
“You kept it.”
“You gave me my daughter back.”
“No. She found me.”
Michael nodded.
“She does that.”
Then Helen called.
Her voice sounded strange.
“We found Claire’s original Saint Agnes ledger.”
“Good.”
“No.”
Adrian’s stomach tightened.
“There are thirteen children listed as financially controlled wards.”
“We knew twelve.”
“Yes.”
“Who’s thirteen?”
Helen paused.
“The name is redacted.”
“Then what do we know?”
“Date of birth.”
She told him.
May you like
Adrian stopped breathing.
It was his birthday.
