Chapter 5 - The Trap
Julian never came back. Instead, my mother called me from an untraceable burner phone. She was weeping, the same practiced sobs I had heard since childhood.
"Clara, my baby. Please. Your father is threatening me. I need your help. Meet me at the diner on 4th Street. Just us."
Against my lawyer's advice, I went. I needed to look her in the eye one last time.
She was sitting in a booth, wearing oversized sunglasses and a silk scarf, looking like a tragic movie star. When I slid into the booth, she reached for my hand. I pulled it away.
"I'm so sorry, Clara," she sniffled, dabbing her dry eyes with a tissue. "I was blind. He controlled me too."
I stared at her collarbone. The silk scarf was tied just a little too loosely, and a tiny black wire peeked out from the fabric. She was wearing a wire, trying to bait me into saying something that would discredit my evidence or admit to tampering with the files.
I leaned in close, smiling sweetly.
"Mom," I whispered. "I know about the wire. And I know you transferred two million to the Cayman account yesterday morning, violating the federal freeze on your assets. I sent the transaction ID to the FBI ten minutes ago."
Her face froze. The fake tears vanished instantly, replaced by a mask of pure, venomous hatred.
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"You little bitch," she hissed.
"Enjoy federal prison, mother. I hear orange isn't your color." I stood up, threw a five-dollar bill on the table for my coffee, and walked out into the sunshine.
