Chapter 4 - The Ring Was Never Just a Ring
Norah felt the floor shift beneath her.
“You hired me because of him?”
Mrs. Gable nodded weakly.
“I didn't know why.”
“You docked my pay.”
“I had instructions to keep you here.”
Norah's face hardened.
“You made sure I couldn't afford to leave.”
Mrs. Gable looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Victor stepped forward.
Tommy quietly positioned himself between Victor and the frightened housekeeper.
Not to protect Victor.
To protect Mrs. Gable.
Norah saw it.
“Vic.”
Victor stopped.
Her voice was enough.
She walked toward Mrs. Gable.
“What did Maren want?”
“The ring.”
Norah touched it.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Victor did.
Or at least he suspected.
“Give me the ring.”
Norah immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“I'm not taking it.”
“Then why?”
“I want to examine it.”
She hesitated before removing the cord.
Victor held the copper ring beneath his desk lamp.
Twenty years had turned the metal green.
He rotated the blue bead.
Then froze.
“What?”
Victor pressed his thumbnail against the bead's crude setting.
A tiny metal piece shifted.
Norah leaned closer.
Inside the braided copper was something impossibly small.
A narrow strip of old paper.
“What the hell?” Tommy whispered.
Victor carefully unfolded it.
Numbers.
A name.
And a bank.
Norah stared.
“You put that there?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Victor's expression changed.
“The wire.”
“What about it?”
“I found it behind the maintenance shed.”
Tommy understood first.
“It wasn't electrical wire.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
The copper had been wrapped around something hidden.
A record.
Someone had concealed evidence at St. Jude’s.
Twelve-year-old Victor had unknowingly turned part of it into a ring.
Norah stared at him.
“So Maren wasn't watching me because of you.”
“He was watching the ring.”
Tommy studied the paper.
“These account numbers are old.”
Victor nodded.
“But records survive.”
“What do they prove?”
Victor looked toward Mrs. Gable.
“That's what Salvatore is afraid of.”
Norah folded her arms.
“And now?”
“Now you leave.”
“No.”
Victor blinked.
“Norah.”
“You don't get to order me around.”
“This isn't about pride.”
“Neither is my answer.”
“Maren knows you're here.”
“He already knew.”
“He knows I know.”
“Good.”
Victor stared at her.
She stepped closer.
“For twenty years, other people decided where I lived. Which home I went to. Which jobs I could afford to lose. Even Mrs. Gable manipulated my paycheck to keep me trapped here.”
Mrs. Gable lowered her eyes.
Norah continued.
“Nobody decides for me again.”
Victor's expression softened.
“You sound like me.”
“That's exactly what worries me.”
Tommy almost smiled.
Victor ignored him.
“What do you want?”
Norah pointed at the paper.
“The truth.”
They got part of it before dawn.
The account belonged to a charitable trust once used to fund St. Jude’s.
Millions had disappeared.
The missing money had been redirected through companies tied to Salvatore Maren.
But there was something worse.
Children whose files connected them to powerful families had been deliberately relocated.
Victor's transfer had not been random.
Neither had Norah's.
Norah sat across from Victor's desk.
“So he stole from orphans.”
“Yes.”
“And manipulated placements.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Tommy answered.
“Information. Influence. Families pay to make problems disappear.”
Norah looked sick.
Victor closed the file.
“We can prove enough to destroy him financially.”
Norah looked at him sharply.
“Legally?”
Victor paused.
She pointed a finger.
“Legally, Vic.”
He sighed.
“You really haven't changed.”
“Neither have you.”
“I changed considerably.”
“You still think hitting a problem is easier than solving it.”
Victor looked offended.
“I haven't hit anyone.”
“Tonight.”
Tommy coughed.
Victor glared at him.
Then his phone rang.
Salvatore Maren.
Victor answered.
“Sal.”
A smooth voice came through the speaker.
“I believe you found something that belongs to me.”
Victor looked at Norah.
“No.”
“It was stolen.”
“From children.”
Silence.
Then Salvatore laughed.
“You always were sentimental about that place.”
Victor's jaw tightened.
“You knew me there.”
“I knew who you were.”
“And Norah?”
“Collateral.”
Norah's face changed.
Victor's fingers tightened around the phone.
Salvatore continued.
“Give me the ring and the paper inside it. We forget this happened.”
Victor's voice became dangerously quiet.
“You've made one mistake.”
“Only one?”
“You think the ring matters because of what's inside it.”
“Doesn't it?”
Victor looked directly at Norah.
“No.”
He ended the call.
Norah stared at him.
“What did that mean?”
Victor crossed the room.
“The paper is evidence.”
“And the ring?”
His gaze dropped to it.
“The ring was a guarantee.”
Norah's breath caught.
Victor handed it back.
May you like
“And I already broke it once.”
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