Chapter 17 - The Father on Trial
Before Northstar could close, Daniel had to survive family court.
Sarah’s attorneys withdrew their earlier attempt to portray the snowstorm as misunderstanding.
But Owen’s trustee petition had created a different problem.
Court-appointed child advocate Rebecca Sloan requested a parenting assessment.
Daniel hated it.
Not because he thought he would lose Mia.
Because he had to sit in a small room while strangers examined every failure of the past three years.
Why had he remarried eighteen months after Emily’s death?
Why had Mia’s objections to Sarah been interpreted as grief?
Why had Daniel worked sixty-hour weeks?
Why had he installed Sarah as the main household decision-maker while traveling?
Why had Mia’s school reported anxiety twice without Daniel attending the meetings himself?
Claire had attended one.
Sarah the other.
Daniel had sent assistants to manage scheduling.
He saw the pattern.
Money had allowed him to outsource everything except responsibility.
Rebecca asked the worst question last.
“Why did you record before helping Mia?”
Daniel’s throat tightened.
“Because I knew Sarah would deny it.”
“How long did you record?”
“About twenty seconds from the shove to when I intervened.”
“Your daughter was lying in freezing snow.”
“Yes.”
“You continued filming.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted proof.”
Rebecca watched him.
“At what point does collecting proof become prioritizing the case over the child?”
Daniel did not defend himself.
“I don’t know.”
“Would you do it again?”
“No.”
“Even if Sarah later lied?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked through the observation window toward Mia’s playroom.
“Because Mia needed a father before she needed evidence.”
Rebecca wrote something.
Daniel left shaken.
That afternoon a temporary recommendation was issued.
Mia would continue living primarily with Claire for three additional weeks while Daniel completed parenting sessions and the criminal/corporate chaos stabilized.
Daniel felt as though he had been punched.
“I am her father.”
Rebecca remained calm.
“Yes.”
“Sarah is gone from the house.”
“Yes.”
“So why can’t she come home?”
“Because your home is currently an active center of litigation, press attention, security activity, and corporate investigation.”
“I can move.”
“That may help.”
“This punishes me for reporting what happened.”
“No.”
Rebecca’s gaze was steady.
“This protects Mia from becoming the center of your response to what happened.”
Daniel hated hearing it.
Because part of him knew she was right.
That night he told Mia.
She nodded quietly.
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“You seem mad.”
“I’m mad at me.”
She thought about it.
“Can we still have pancakes Saturday?”
Daniel almost broke.
“Yes.”
“Then okay.”
Children survived adult disasters through strange islands of normalcy.
Pancakes.
Cartoons.
A stuffed rabbit.
Daniel began looking for a smaller house.
Not a mansion.
Not a monument to Emily.
Not Sarah’s battlefield.
A home with enough room for two people and a dog Mia had been requesting for three years.
Meanwhile Owen prepared the Northstar vote.
He believed the Mercer veto would not be used.
Claire intentionally sent no signal otherwise.
Federal investigators were not ready to arrest anyone.
They wanted the closing documents.
Evidence of intent.
Money trails.
Signed representations.
If Owen executed the transaction while knowingly concealing Northstar ownership and misusing company funds, the case strengthened dramatically.
Margaret Sloan agreed to cooperate secretly.
The board approved the sale conditionally.
Daniel watched the announcement online.
WHITMORE HOLDINGS ACCEPTS NORTHSTAR OFFER.
His father’s company was disappearing.
He expected grief.
Instead he felt relief.
That frightened him.
Then Marcus called.
“Lena’s gone.”
Daniel stood.
“What do you mean gone?”
“She missed her second interview.”
“Phone?”
“Off.”
“Family?”
“Her son says she packed a bag.”
Daniel’s stomach tightened.
“Did Owen threaten her?”
“We don’t know.”
The next morning, a sworn affidavit appeared through Owen’s attorneys.
Signed by Lena Ortiz.
It recanted key portions of her statement.
She claimed Daniel had pressured her.
Claimed the notebook entries were reconstructed after the snowstorm.
Claimed Marcus offered financial help.
Daniel stared.
“This is a lie.”
Nora agreed.
“But it is damaging.”
Owen released the affidavit to the board.
Then to the press.
Daniel’s credibility fell again.
The same day, prosecutors informed him they were reviewing whether the internal evidence had been contaminated by private investigators.
Daniel called Marcus.
“Did you offer Lena money?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
“I offered relocation assistance if she felt unsafe.”
“From whose money?”
“Your security account.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Enough to twist.
Always enough.
Owen’s attorney issued a statement accusing Daniel of orchestrating a revenge campaign.
Northstar moved closing up by five days.
They were losing time.
Then Claire received a package.
No return address.
Inside was Lena’s black notebook.
The original.
And a handwritten letter.
Mr. Daniel did not force me to lie.
I lied because Mr. Owen showed me documents saying my son would go to prison if I testified.
I am sorry again.
Beneath it was a photograph.
Lena sitting in a hotel lobby.
Across from her:
Gerald Pike.
Sarah’s attorney.
Daniel stared at the image.
Pike had claimed to represent Sarah alone.
If he was meeting Lena after Sarah began cooperating—
someone else had control of him.
Nora looked at Daniel.
“Owen?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Maybe.”
He enlarged the photograph.
On the table beside Pike’s hand was a red folder.
Daniel recognized the embossed seal.
Whitmore Holdings legal department.
Pike had access to company files.
Daniel’s phone rang.
Sarah.
Her voice was shaking.
“Daniel, Pike is gone.”
“What?”
“He withdrew as my counsel this morning.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel looked at the photograph again.
May you like
Sarah whispered:
“But before he left, he took my cooperation files.”
