Chapter 2 - The Man in the Hallway
“Grandpa Richard.”
Adeline's whisper barely reached my ears.
I stared at her.
“What did you say, sweetheart?”
She pointed toward the hallway again, her little fingers trembling.
“Grandpa Richard was here. He told Uncle Vin not to tell you.”
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Richard Hale was Vincent's older brother. He was also the man who had practically raised me after my parents died. He had attended my wedding, held Adeline when she was born, and stood beside Vincent through every major crisis in the family.
He had eaten dinner with Vincent the previous night.
And the name on that bloody piece of paper was Richard Hale.
“Are you sure?” I asked carefully.
Adeline nodded.
“He had his black watch. The one with the little silver scratches.”
I looked down at the paper again.
My uncle's name.
Written in Vincent's handwriting.
Behind me, Dr. Morales shouted for the emergency medical team.
“Marcus, get her out of here!”
I carried Adeline into the corridor, where two security officers were already approaching.
“Lock down the building,” I ordered. “Nobody enters or leaves. Nobody deletes surveillance footage. I want every camera recording from the last twelve hours preserved.”
One officer hesitated.
“Sir, Mr. Hale specifically instructed us—”
“Which Mr. Hale?”
He swallowed.
“Richard, sir.”
My stomach tightened.
Richard had given security instructions before Vincent was discovered.
I stepped closer.
“What instructions?”
“He said there might be an internal security review. He ordered us to leave the executive floor accessible until further notice.”
Accessible.
The word sounded harmless, but I knew better.
Someone had deliberately created an opening.
My phone vibrated.
Richard.
I stared at his name for several seconds before answering.
“Marcus,” he said, his voice unusually calm. “I've been trying to reach Vincent. Is everything all right?”
I looked through the glass office doors.
Doctors were working frantically around my uncle.
“No,” I answered. “Someone stabbed him.”
Silence.
Then Richard exhaled.
“Jesus Christ. Where are you?”
“His office.”
“I'll come immediately.”
“No.”
Another silence.
“Excuse me?”
“Stay where you are. Security is handling everything.”
His voice hardened.
“Marcus, don't be ridiculous. I'm his brother.”
“And I'm the man responsible for finding out who did this.”
He hung up.
I looked at Adeline.
She was watching me with an expression no seven-year-old should ever have to wear.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Grandpa Richard told Uncle Vin that if he didn't sign the paper, you would disappear.”
My blood ran cold.
Before I could ask another question, the medical team rushed Vincent past us on a stretcher.
His hand hung over the side.
The wedding ring he always wore was missing.
And beneath his wrist, I noticed something else.
A small crescent-shaped cut.
Three identical cuts.
The same unusual mark I had seen on Richard's right hand during dinner the previous night.
But the most terrifying discovery came ten minutes later.
A security officer approached me with a tablet.
“Mr. Hale, we recovered the office footage.”
“Show me.”
He played the recording.
At 8:16 p.m., Vincent entered his office.
At 8:19 p.m., the door opened again.
A man walked inside.
The camera captured his face clearly.
May you like
It wasn't Richard.
It was me.
