Chapter 9 - Edward March
Laura did not tell Noah immediately.
Not all of it.
She told him one fact.
“Dad survived the first crash.”
“I know.”
“And later he got very sick from his injuries.”
Noah watched her carefully.
“Did he die?”
Laura nodded.
This time there was no ocean.
No uncertainty.
“Yes.”
Noah’s face collapsed.
“But he was already dead.”
“I know.”
“You said maybe—”
“I know.”
For five years, absence had allowed a tiny impossible hope to survive.
Now Laura had killed it with truth.
Noah cried into her chest.
“Why didn’t he come home?”
“He was trying to.”
“Trying is not coming.”
“No.”
“Did Uncle Victor stop him?”
Laura closed her eyes.
“We are still finding out exactly what happened.”
Noah pulled away.
“You always say that.”
“Because I don’t want to lie to you.”
He wiped his face angrily.
“I hate truth.”
“So do I sometimes.”
That surprised him.
Laura continued:
“But lies made this worse.”
Noah looked toward the broken music box.
“Can Dad still be Dad if he did stupid things?”
“Yes.”
“Can Uncle Victor still be my uncle if he did bad things?”
Laura hesitated.
“Yes.”
Noah frowned.
“Then how do you know who to love?”
Laura had no answer ready.
“Maybe love and trust aren’t the same thing.”
Noah looked exhausted.
“That’s also annoying.”
“Yes.”
The Edward March identity led investigators to Vermont.
Larkspur Holdings owned an isolated property outside Stowe.
The house had been sold four years earlier.
Old records remained.
A private physician service billed “Edward March” for traumatic brain injury care.
Dr. Lena Cole had signed treatment notes.
One entry:
Patient demands transfer to tertiary hospital. V.M. objects due confidentiality. Patient verbally revokes brother’s authority.
The next page was missing.
Another entry, twenty-six hours later:
Patient suffered seizure. Emergency transfer delayed.
Delayed.
Not refused in writing.
Delayed.
Maya traced phone records from the property.
Dr. Cole called 911 at 2:13 a.m.
The call lasted forty-one seconds.
A second call went out from Victor’s phone at 2:17 to a private security dispatch center.
At 2:22, emergency services received a cancellation from a caller claiming the patient’s physician had stabilized him.
Dr. Cole denied making that call.
Victor’s phone connected to a tower near the house.
Laura stared at investigator Price.
“He canceled the ambulance.”
“We can’t prove who made the exact call yet.”
“He was there.”
“Yes.”
“And Ethan died.”
“Three days later.”
“From?”
“Records list complications of intracranial hemorrhage.”
“Could a hospital have saved him?”
“That requires medical expert review.”
Laura wanted certainty.
The law gave her evidence.
Not vengeance.
Then another discovery arrived.
Ethan’s ashes.
A Vermont crematory had released Edward March’s remains to a representative of Larkspur Holdings.
Signature:
Andrea Shaw.
Laura called Andrea.
She answered immediately.
“You took his ashes.”
Andrea began crying.
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“I gave them to Victor.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know.”
Laura’s voice hardened.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I swear.”
“Why did you sign?”
“Victor said Ethan’s identity had to remain protected until the sabotage evidence was secured.”
“He was dead.”
“I know.”
“And you continued.”
“I was terrified.”
“Of losing your law license?”
“Yes.”
The answer was ugly.
At least it was honest.
Andrea whispered:
“I thought I could fix everything later.”
Laura almost laughed.
Every conspiracy was built by people promising themselves later.
Later they would confess.
Later they would correct the document.
Later they would make the phone call.
Later Noah would understand.
Later never came unless someone forced it.
That afternoon the court-appointed fiduciary froze any sale of the ASTER division for thirty days.
Victor lost his immediate Vesper deal.
Mercer Aviation’s lenders reacted.
One bank placed the company under enhanced review.
A major government customer suspended contract negotiations.
The company’s value began falling.
Employees panicked.
Victor went on television.
He did not discuss Noah.
He did not discuss the forged trust.
He said:
“Laura Mercer’s campaign to relitigate her husband’s death is destabilizing a company that employs four thousand people.”
The statement worked.
Within hours, Laura became the face of chaos.
Outside Mercer Aviation headquarters, employees gathered holding signs.
SAVE OUR JOBS.
STOP THE FAMILY WAR.
Laura watched from her car.
Grace sat beside her.
“They blame me.”
Grace replied:
“They’re afraid.”
“So am I.”
“Yes.”
Laura’s phone buzzed.
A message from Victor.
You wanted the truth. Now watch what it costs.
Attached was a photograph.
A bronze urn.
Laura recognized the Mercer family crest engraved on the base.
Victor wrote:
ETHAN CAME HOME YEARS AGO.
Laura’s hands began trembling.
Her husband’s ashes had been inside the Mercer family estate all along.
May you like
Victor had hidden Ethan not only in life.
But in death.
