Chapter 10 - THE SECRET INSIDE THE PINK TELESCOPE
I returned to the hospital the following morning with Leo's tiny handprint stamped on a piece of construction paper.
Rosa had helped me make it.
Blue paint.
Crooked fingers.
A little yellow sun in the corner.
Across the bottom, I had written:
Get Well Soon, Mr. Grant.
When I held it up, Grant smiled.
Not the faint, exhausted smile I'd grown accustomed to.
A real one.
His eyes crinkled at the corners.
For a moment, he looked like a man who might someday leave the hospital, walk into the sunlight, and enjoy an ordinary morning.
I placed the drawing beside his bed.
"Leo made most of it," I said. "Although he tried to eat the paper."
Grant let out a faint breath that sounded almost like a laugh.
Then his hand moved toward mine.
I took it.
He selected a message on his communication board.
THANK YOU.
I smiled.
"You're welcome."
He continued.
FOR HIM.
I understood.
He wasn't thanking me for the drawing.
He was thanking me for protecting Leo.
My throat tightened.
"He's my whole world," I whispered.
Grant looked toward the blue handprint.
Then closed his eyes.
I wondered whether he was thinking about Lily.
I wondered whether there would ever be a day when remembering her didn't hurt.
Before I left, he managed one more message.
FIND STARS.
I nodded.
"We're working on it."
Naomi had spent the previous evening reviewing the legal and financial records connected to North Harbor.
She discovered that Warehouse Nineteen had been leased through several related companies, making its ownership confusing.
But the original access records belonged to Sterling Global.
Grant's authority had not been legally extinguished, and the disputed will did not automatically give Julian the right to destroy company records.
Naomi was preparing an urgent request to preserve the property and its contents.
Meanwhile, Rosa remembered something important.
The pink telescope Lily loved had been moved from the nursery to Grant's study after her death.
And hidden inside its wooden storage case was a small compartment.
"Mr. Sterling made it himself," she explained. "He said every astronaut needed a secret place to keep treasure."
My heart raced.
"Could the key be inside?"
"That's what I think."
"Then how do we get it?"
Evelyn made a decision.
She would enter the mansion openly with Naomi, request access to Grant's personal effects, and document any refusal.
Julian couldn't reasonably claim that a children's telescope was confidential corporate property.
At least, that was the argument.
I wanted to go with them.
Naomi refused.
"You've already been threatened, and Leo was abducted. The fewer chances Julian has to confront you, the better."
I hated it.
But I stayed with Rosa and Leo while Evelyn and Naomi drove to Bel Air.
Two hours passed.
Then three.
I checked my phone constantly.
Finally, Evelyn called.
"We have it."
"The telescope?"
"Yes."
"Where's Julian?"
"He wasn't home. His attorney allowed us to inspect Grant's personal property after we threatened emergency court intervention."
I nearly laughed with relief.
"Did you find the compartment?"
"Not yet."
"Don't open it there," I said.
"We won't."
An hour later, they returned with a long wooden box.
It was scratched and faded, with tiny silver stars painted on the lid.
Lily's name was written across one corner in pink marker.
For a moment, nobody touched it.
Then Evelyn gently opened the box.
Inside lay the little telescope.
It was pink, with silver trim and a plastic moon-shaped knob.
The sight of it made my chest ache.
A six-year-old girl had once looked through that lens and imagined exploring the universe.
Now strangers were opening her treasured toy to solve a murder plot.
Rosa showed us the hidden latch beneath the case.
The compartment slid open.
Inside was a small metal key.
And a folded piece of paper.
The paper contained six numbers.
No explanation.
No name.
Just numbers.
Naomi examined the key.
"It looks like a secure-deposit or storage key."
"Could it open something at Warehouse Nineteen?" I asked.
"Possibly."
Evelyn held the paper toward the light.
"Grant wouldn't hide an ordinary key in Lily's toy unless it mattered."
She turned it over.
On the back were two handwritten words.
Remember September.
I felt a chill.
"September?"
Rosa nodded slowly.
"The warehouse fire happened in September."
Naomi photographed everything.
Then she called the court-appointed records officer coordinating access to Warehouse Nineteen.
Because of the ongoing legal dispute and allegations of evidence tampering, the property was now subject to a preservation order.
No one was supposed to remove or alter its contents.
That afternoon, officers overseeing the preservation process allowed Naomi and a forensic records specialist to examine the relevant storage area.
Evelyn accompanied them.
I stayed at the guesthouse, waiting.
Hours passed.
Leo fell asleep after lunch.
Rosa folded laundry beside me.
Neither of us spoke much.
At 4:26 p.m., my phone rang.
Naomi.
"Mariana, we've found something."
I stood.
"What?"
"The key opened a locked compartment in an old records cabinet."
"What's inside?"
"Original shipping documents, insurance correspondence, and an encrypted recorder."
"Does it work?"
"We haven't examined it yet."
My pulse quickened.
"Is there anything about Lily?"
A pause.
"There's a folder with her name on it."
I sat down.
"What kind of folder?"
"I don't know. We need to review it properly."
Then Naomi lowered her voice.
"But there's something strange."
"What?"
"The storage compartment was opened recently."
"How do you know?"
"The preservation officer documented fresh damage around the lock housing. Someone tried to force it."
My stomach tightened.
"Julian?"
"We don't know."
"Did they get inside?"
"No. The internal lock held."
I closed my eyes.
At least we were not too late.
That evening, Naomi returned with preliminary copies of the records.
The recorder had been sent for forensic examination.
But the documents were already revealing.
One report described repeated brake-system concerns involving a specific fleet of Sterling Global trucks.
Another documented pressure from North Harbor executives to delay inspections.
Several warnings had been submitted before the warehouse fire.
They had been ignored.
Then I saw a page bearing the name of the truck involved in Lily's collision.
Vehicle 417.
The report showed that its mechanical issues had been identified weeks earlier.
Someone had authorized it to remain in service.
I looked at the signature.
It wasn't Grant's.
It wasn't Daniel's.
It belonged to Julian Sterling.
I stared at the page.
"He knew."
Naomi nodded grimly.
"At the very least, this shows he approved something he later denied knowing about."
I looked at Evelyn.
She appeared physically ill.
"Julian was twenty-four," she whispered. "Grant had just given him a management role."
She covered her mouth.
"He trusted him."
Naomi turned to another document.
"There's more."
A recorded internal call had been listed in the archive index.
The call was made shortly before Lily's mother left for the harbor.
The caller's identity wasn't written on the page.
But the recording's reference number matched the encrypted device.
The evidence specialist believed it could still contain recoverable audio.
I looked toward Leo, sleeping peacefully in his crib.
A single phone call had sent Lily toward death.
A different phone call had brought police to rescue my son.
And now another recording might reveal the person responsible.
Before I could speak, Evelyn's phone rang.
She answered.
Her face changed immediately.
"Slow down," she said.
She listened.
Then looked at Naomi.
"What do you mean there's been a fire?"
A chill moved through the room.
Evelyn lowered the phone.
"Warehouse Nineteen."
I stood.
"What?"
"Someone set fire to the records building."
May you like
The evidence we had just uncovered was already being targeted.
And there were still employees inside.
