Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Ledger
The realization that someone in this house was actively trying to kill Garrett turned our quiet arrangement into a desperate race against time. If Douglas and Gertrude realized that Garrett was recovering—and that I was helping him—we wouldn't just lose our jobs; we wouldn't survive the week.
That night, after the household had settled into a heavy, deceptive silence, Garrett gave me my first real assignment.
"My private digital safe is behind the mahogany wall panel in my study," Garrett instructed quietly as I helped him transfer from his chair to his bed. "The biometric scanner requires my thumbprint, but there's a physical emergency backup key hidden inside the hollow base of the bronze desk globe. Inside that safe is a flash drive containing the original unredacted audit logs of Apex Global Industries from the quarter before my accident."
"What’s on it?" I asked, my fingers brushing against the cool fabric of his blanket.
"Proof that Douglas embezzled twelve million dollars from the R&D division," Garrett replied grimly. "That’s why my accident wasn't an accident. My car brakes were severed three hours after I discovered the discrepancy in the ledger. They didn't push me off a cliff, but they made sure my car did it for me."
The horror of his words washed over me. I thought of my own divorce—how Christopher and Florence had discarded me with cold, calculated cruelty when I was no longer useful. But this? This was pure, unadulterated evil wrapped in bespoke suits and polite manners.
"I'll get it," I whispered.
At 2:00 AM, the mansion was shrouded in shadows. I moved like a ghost down the wide, carpeted hallway, my rubber-soled nursing shoes making zero sound against the floorboards. The study door creaked slightly as I pushed it open. Moonlight streamed through the high windows, illuminating the heavy mahogany furniture.
I crouched beside the antique bronze globe, my fingers frantically searching the carved wooden base. My heart thumped against my ribs like a sledgehammer. Click. A small hidden compartment popped open, revealing a small, jagged iron key.
I rushed to the wall panel, inserted the key, and twisted it. The heavy wood swung inward with a soft pneumatic hiss, revealing a small black digital safe set into the drywall. Using the combination Garrett had memorized for me—dates, numbers, milestones of a life they thought they had ended—I punched the digits.
BEEP.
The heavy steel door swung open.
Inside sat a single, matte-black flash drive. I reached out, my fingers wrapping around it—
"Looking for something, nurse?"
May you like
A cold voice cut through the darkness of the study, freezing the blood in my veins.
I whipped around. Standing in the doorway, framed by the pale moonlight, was Douglas. He wasn't wearing a jacket; his shirtsleeves were rolled up, and in his right hand, he held a heavy crystal decanter of bourbon, his eyes wide and unhinged.
