Chapter 8 - The Ghost Returns

Every head in the massive boardroom turned toward the entrance.
Clara marched down the center aisle, pushing the wheelchair with fierce determination.
Gasps erupted from the wealthy shareholders as they recognized the boy in the chair.
Eleanor dropped her lace handkerchief, the blood draining completely from her face.
Richard gripped the edges of the podium so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Good morning, Grandfather," Leo's voice rang out clearly, amplified by the silent shock of the room.
"I apologize for being late. The fire you set at the estate delayed my travel plans."
Chaos exploded in the room.
Journalists, secretly invited by Clara's contact, instantly raised their cameras, flashes blinding the executives.
"Security! Arrest that woman!" Eleanor shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Clara. "She kidnapped my nephew!"
Two massive security guards stepped forward, but Clara held up Arthur’s leather-bound journal high in the air.
"This is the personal diary of Arthur Sterling!" Clara shouted over the noise.
"It details over four hundred million dollars in embezzled funds, orchestrated by Richard and Eleanor Sterling!"
The flashing of cameras intensified into a blinding strobe light.
"Lies! She's a deranged former employee!" Richard bellowed, losing his dignified composure.
"Turn to page forty-two of the copies on your seats," Leo instructed the board members calmly.
The journalist contact had done her job perfectly.
Beneath every shareholder's chair was a printed copy of the journal's most damning pages, complete with bank routing numbers.
Investors hurriedly grabbed the packets, their faces turning from shock to fury as they read the evidence of massive corporate fraud.
"He locked me in my room and took my braces," Leo stated, staring directly into his aunt's terrified eyes.
"They murdered my father to cover up their theft, and last night, they tried to murder me."
Sirens began to wail loudly from the city streets below.
The FBI, tipped off by the journalist with undeniable financial proof, had just breached the lobby.
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Eleanor backed away from the table, looking desperately for an exit.
But there was nowhere left to run.