Chapter 13: Clover Turns Back
“Let him go.”
Clover’s voice came out rough from the smoke, but it carried across the loading bay. Gideon glanced at her as if she were an interruption, not the woman who had just crawled out from under his burning building.
Luke was on his knees, his split cheek shining wet in the bay lights. Behind him, the fixer had one fist knotted in Luke’s collar and a short steel bar raised in the other. Gideon held the ledger bundle. Its cloth had torn, exposing pages that fluttered in the hot draft.
Bruno caught up beside Clover, coughing hard. He didn’t reach for her this time. He stood at her shoulder, one hand pressed to the wall until his balance steadied.
“Put it down,” Clover said. “The ledger.”
Gideon’s expression barely changed. “You came back for paper?”
“I came back for Luke.”
For a moment, something like amusement touched Gideon’s mouth. “You always did mistake recklessness for courage.”
Luke shifted against the fixer’s grip. The steel bar tapped his shoulder.
“Don’t,” the fixer warned.
Clover took one step closer. The garage breathed smoke behind Gideon, the air hot enough to sting her eyes. Beyond the loading bay, night stretched open and dark. She could hear Miles through the phone in her pocket, still connected, his voice thin beneath the distant crackle.
“Clover, I’m here.”
Gideon’s gaze flicked toward the sound. “You think a reporter’s copy makes you untouchable?”
“No,” Clover said. “I think you’re afraid of what the copies can prove.”
His hand tightened around the ledger. “This was a business decision.”
The words landed colder than the night air.
Gideon looked at the torn pages, then back at her. “A test failed. A report was corrected. Your parents were on the road before anyone could stop them. It was an ugly chain of events, not some grand design.”
“You knew the brakes were unsafe.”
“I knew the company could not survive another delay.”
Clover felt the truth sharpen inside her—not because it was new, but because he had finally stopped dressing it up. Her parents’ lives reduced to a line item. Her mother’s fear, her father’s warning, Bruno’s silence: all of it, in Gideon’s mouth, a cost he had chosen to accept.
“You let them drive that car.”
“I protected thousands of jobs.”
“You protected yourself.”
His eyes went hard. “Your grandfather understood what was at stake.”
Bruno moved before Clover could answer. He stepped between her and Gideon, shoulders trembling from exhaustion but voice clear.
“No.”
The single word seemed to surprise them both.
“I understood what you threatened,” Bruno said. “You told me Clover would be next if I went to the authorities. You used my fear to keep me quiet.”
Gideon gave a small, disdainful laugh. “You kept quiet because you knew the truth would destroy your family.”
“I kept quiet because I was afraid.” Bruno’s face tightened. “And then I called it protection so I wouldn’t have to admit what I’d done.”
Clover looked at him. He didn’t ask her to forgive him. He didn’t turn toward her to make her carry his shame. He faced Gideon and let the words stand.
On the phone, Miles said, “I’m still here, Bruno.”
Bruno drew a breath that caught painfully in his chest. “Then hear me. Gideon Sterling threatened my family to keep Mara’s evidence buried. He knew the danger. He knew what his choices could do, and he chose the company anyway.”
The fixer shifted his grip on Luke. Gideon’s attention snapped to Bruno, and the ledger loosened in his hand for half a second.
Luke moved.
He drove his heel down on the fixer’s boot and twisted, wrenching his collar free. The fixer swung the steel bar. Luke caught his wrist with both hands, slammed it against the loading-bay post, and the bar clattered across the concrete. His injured shoulder buckled, but he stayed upright long enough to shove the man away.
“Clover!” Luke shouted.
She lunged for the ledger. Gideon grabbed at the cloth, but the torn bundle split between them. Clover caught the thickest section against her chest. Loose pages skittered across the concrete, some sliding toward the garage’s orange-lit mouth.
Gideon seized her sleeve.
“Let go!”
She tore free, clutching the ledger. Behind her, Bruno grabbed the nearest loose sheets and pressed them to his coat. Gideon reached for them; Bruno didn’t retreat.
“You’ve had your silence,” Bruno said. “You don’t get the rest.”
Luke shoved the fixer aside and staggered toward them. Clover took his arm, and together they ran for the open loading bay. The pages in her hands were warm, their edges damp with smoke. She could feel ink beneath her palm, names and dates that had survived long enough to reach the air.
A siren rose beyond the property. Miles’s voice crackled from her pocket.
“They’re at the road. Keep moving!”
Blue lights swept across the loading bay, brightening the concrete and the smoke. For one breath, Clover saw the way out—the wet pavement beyond, the flashing reflections, the dark shape of the street.
May you like
Then Gideon’s hand clamped around her wrist.
He yanked her backward, pulling her across the threshold and into the smoke.
