Before he could process it, Martha slipped into his study later that evening. Her hands trembled as she handed him an envelope.
“Sir… don’t let Mr. Richard know I gave you this. Open it when you’re alone.”
Inside was a blurry photo. A woman in a wheelchair, facing the ocean behind iron fencing. Though turned away, Michael knew that hair. Knew the curve of those shoulders.
On the back, in shaky handwriting: “She’s alive.”
The room went cold. The grief he had carried for years turned into something sharper. Rage. Resolve.
That night, while the house slept, Michael broke into his father’s private office in the basement. After digging through files, he found a black folder labeled “Harbor Project.”
Falsified reports. Bribes. Monthly transfers to a “Neurological Rehabilitation Facility” on a remote island off the Maine coast.
Claire hadn’t died. She had survived the accident—but unstable, injured. And his parents, obsessed with appearances, had hidden her away. A staged funeral. A closed casket. Catherine stepping into her place to preserve the image of perfection.
“They buried her alive,” Michael whispered.
Footsteps echoed. Catherine entered the basement, speaking urgently on the phone.