Chapter 17 - REBECCA'S LAST SEVEN DAYSRebecca knew she was going to die.
That realization changed Dominic.
He was released pending trial because the government's evidence had begun showing inconsistencies.
He returned to Blackthorne at midnight.
Caleb met him at the door.
Neither spoke.
Caleb simply walked into his father's arms.
Dominic held him for a long time.
Then he saw Rebecca's letter.
He read it alone.
Afterward, I found him sitting in the ballroom.
“I should have known.”
“No.”
“She was terrified.”
“She hid it.”
“From me.”
“To protect you.”
“That excuse sounded better when it was me using it.”
I sat beside him.
We began reconstructing Rebecca's final week.
Seven days before her death, she visited Grace Holloway.
Six days before, she withdrew $40,000 in cash.
Five days before, she accessed Mercer shipping records.
Four days before, she met Lydia.
Three days before, she gave Voss the letter addressed to Dominic.
That made no sense.
Why give your enemy a warning letter?
Unless Rebecca knew he would eventually deliver it.
“She baited him,” I whispered.
Dominic looked at me.
Rebecca had written a letter Voss could not safely destroy.
If Dominic ever learned Voss possessed it, that itself became evidence of contact.
Rebecca had built a trap that took eight years to close.
The sixth day remained blank.
Then Caleb remembered the song.
“My mom used to sing something.”
Dominic looked at him.
“What?”
Caleb hummed four notes.
Dominic froze.
Rebecca had used those notes as the password for a private photo-storage account.
Inside were thousands of family photographs.
And one video.
Recorded the night before her death.
Rebecca appeared on screen.
Thirty-three years old.
Alive.
Caleb covered his mouth.
Dominic couldn't move.
Rebecca looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, I probably failed.”
Dominic's hand found mine.
“I need you to understand something. Dominic didn't know.”
She explained the Meridian Circle.
A coalition of financiers, criminals, political fixers and corporate dynasties.
Not a single organization.
A system.
The Mercers had been part of it for generations without understanding its full structure.
Vincent tried to leave.
Nathaniel tried to expose it.
Rebecca discovered Voss had become its coordinator.
Then she said:
“They're interested in Caleb.”
Dominic's grip tightened.
“Not now. Later. They think bloodlines matter. Names matter. They believe children can inherit power more reliably than institutions.”
Rebecca leaned closer.
“If Caleb is watching this someday…”
Caleb began crying.
“…sweetheart, none of this belongs to you unless you choose it.”
Dominic broke.
Not dramatically.
One tear.
Then another.
Rebecca smiled from eight years in the past.
“You are not your father's mistakes. You are not your grandfather's mistakes. You don't owe anyone the Mercer name.”
Caleb whispered:
“Mom.”
Rebecca continued.
“And Dominic…”
She smiled differently.
“I know you're going to blame yourself.”
I almost laughed through tears.
She had known him perfectly.
“Don't.”
Dominic lowered his head.
“You gave me a life bigger than the one I was born into.”
The recording glitched.
Then Rebecca's expression changed.
“If Voss is still alive, there is one person he fears.”
A name appeared.
DR. EVELYN CROSS.
Lydia stood.
“My mother.”
Rebecca gave an address.
Not in Maine.
Not Vermont.
Baltimore.
My hometown.
An old medical research facility.
We drove there the next morning.
The building had been abandoned for fifteen years.
Inside the basement, we found a steel door.
Behind it was a room.
Empty.
Except for a fresh cup of tea.
And a message written on the wall.
TOO SLOW, ELEANOR.
Then Dominic's phone rang.
Evelyn Cross spoke.
“I have Charles Voss.”
May you like
We froze.
“And if you want him alive, come without the police.”
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