Chapter 23 - The First Crack in the New Foundation
Two weeks passed in a blur of salt air and isolation,
and I began to believe that I might actually survive this rebirth.
I spent my days hiking the trails,
learning the language of the forest,
and my nights reading by the fire,
the digital world of Chicago a fading nightmare.
But the peace was shattered on a Tuesday morning when the mail arrived—a single,
official-looking envelope with a return address from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
I sat at my small wooden table,
the envelope feeling like it was made of lead.
I opened it with trembling fingers,
my breath catching as I read the words.
Ethan’s trial was being moved up.
The Chairman’s defense team was arguing that the evidence I had provided was obtained through illegal surveillance and was inadmissible.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The letter stated that a key witness—the man I knew as the "thick-necked man in the suit"—had been found dead in his cell.
Suicide,
the report said.
But I knew better.
It was a message.
The "investors" were cleaning up the loose ends,
and Ethan was the only one left who could point the finger at the men who truly ran the network.
The FBI wanted me to return to Chicago for a deposition,
claiming that my testimony was the only thing holding the case together.
I looked out at the ocean,
the waves looking more like teeth than water,
and felt the old,
familiar weight of the cage closing in.
I couldn't go back.
If I stepped foot in Chicago,
I would never leave.
The "cleaning crew" would be waiting,
and this time,
they wouldn't just be looking for a ledger.
I picked up the carved wooden bird Gabriel had given me,
its stillness a mockery of my own internal chaos.
I needed help,
but who could I trust?
Arthur was too close to the legal system,
Elena was a ghost,
and the FBI was a sieve of information.
I thought of Gabriel’s silver eyes,
the way he had looked at me as if he already knew my secrets.
Was he a protector,
or was he the most dangerous player of all?
I drove into town,
the rain beginning to fall in a steady,
gray drizzle that blurred the world.
I found Gabriel’s workshop at the end of a long,
winding road,
the smell of wood smoke rising from the chimney.
He was at his bench,
shaving a long piece of oak,
the curls of wood falling like snow around his boots.
He didn't look up when I entered,
but I saw his shoulders tighten.
"You received the letter,"
he said,
his voice low and calm.
"How do you know about the letter,
Gabriel?"
I asked,
my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and fury.
He finally looked up,
his silver eyes reflecting the dim light of the shop.
"Because I’m the one who made sure the FBI found you here,
Mabel.
Not because I wanted to hurt you,
but because this was the only place they could protect you."
I backed away,
my hand on the door handle.
"Who are you working for?"
"I don't work for them,"
he said,
setting down his tool.
"I work for the people who were destroyed by Vance Global before you even met Ethan.
I’m the one who gave Elena the recordings."
I felt the world spinning,
the layers of the conspiracy deepening until I couldn't see the bottom.
"You’ve been using me,"
I whispered.
"We’ve been using each other,"
he corrected,
walking toward me.
"But now,
the game has changed.
Ethan isn't just a defendant anymore.
May you like
He’s a bargaining chip.
And they’re coming to Blackwood Cove to collect him—and you."
