Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Lining
The Rhode Island woods were freezing, but Clara didn't dare stop moving until they reached the old, abandoned groundskeeper’s cabin.
It was hidden deep within the forty-acre property, swallowed by overgrown ivy and forgotten by the Sterling family.
Clara laid Leo gently on a dusty cot, wrapping him in an old tarp to keep him warm.
"Why did she do it, Clara?" Leo asked, his voice shaking.
"Why does Aunt Eleanor hate me so much?"
Clara knelt beside him, wiping the soot from his pale forehead.
"It's not about hate, Leo," she said softly.
"With people like your aunt, it is always about money."
Clara remembered a conversation she had overheard a week ago while polishing the silver in the dining room.
Eleanor had been on the phone with a Swiss banker.
Leo was turning twelve at midnight tonight.
According to Arthur Sterling’s will, a massive trust fund of four hundred million dollars would transfer directly into Leo's name on his twelfth birthday.
If Leo died before that moment, the entire fortune defaulted to Eleanor.
"Your birthday is tomorrow," Clara explained, her eyes narrowing in the darkness.
"She couldn't wait any longer."
Suddenly, Leo reached into the pocket of his pajama shirt.
"Before Aunt Eleanor locked the door, she dropped this from my father’s old coat," he said, handing Clara a small, leather-bound notebook.
Clara opened it, using the faint moonlight streaming through the broken window.
It was Arthur’s handwriting.
The entries were frantic, detailing massive embezzlements from the family oil company.
Arthur had discovered that Eleanor and their grandfather, Richard, were stealing millions and funneling it offshore.
The final entry was dated the day before Arthur's fatal helicopter crash.
"They know I found out," the final line read. "If anything happens to me, it wasn't an accident."
Clara’s breath hitched in her throat.
They hadn't just tried to murder Leo tonight.
They had murdered his father six years ago to cover up a financial empire built on lies.
"We are going to destroy them," Clara vowed, clutching the notebook tightly.
But suddenly, the sound of snapping branches echoed outside the cabin.
May you like
Flashlight beams pierced through the cracks in the wooden walls.
Eleanor’s private guards were searching the woods.
