She gripped the rope, her mind visibly spinning as she tried to reconcile the brother she had driven out into the streets with the billionaire standing in front of her. Then, instinct took over. The old Chloe—the one who believed she could manipulate any situation—clawed her way back to the surface.
“Oh my god, Evan! It’s a miracle,” she gasped, her eyes welling with strategic tears. “Mom and Dad… they’ve missed you so much. We all have. I can’t believe this is your company. This is perfect. You have to help us.”
“Help you?” I asked, keeping my hands in my pockets.
“My husband, Greg. Your firm is doing the forensic audit on his company,” she said, leaning in, lowering her voice as if we were conspirators. “They’re trying to frame him for missing funds. It’s a complete misunderstanding, Evan. Just like when we were kids. You have to call off your auditors. You have the power to make this go away.”
I looked at the envelope in her hand, then back up to her eyes.
“Let me make sure I understand,” I said quietly, though the silence around us made the words carry. “Ten years ago, you stole five thousand dollars from me to buy concert tickets, and our parents threw me onto the street for calling the police.”
Chloe flinched, looking around nervously at the wealthy donors who were starting to stare. “Evan, please, that was a long time ago. I was just a kid. We’re family.”
“Now,” I continued, ignoring her plea, “your husband is accused of stealing half a million dollars from his employees’ pension fund. And you tracked down the CEO of the auditing firm to beg him to cover it up.”
“It’s not like that!” she hissed, her face flushing red. “He just borrowed it to cover some bad investments! If you just erase the digital trail, he can pay it back eventually! Please, Evan. If he goes to prison, I lose the house. I lose everything.”
I stared at her. Ten years ago, the thought of losing everything had terrified me. But it hadn’t terrified her. She had laughed.
“I’m sorry, Chloe,” I said, my tone flat, professional, and entirely devoid of pity. “Sentinel Tech’s preliminary findings were already submitted to the federal prosecutor this morning. Your husband didn’t borrow the money. He routed it to offshore accounts. The evidence is ironclad.”
Her mouth dropped open. The envelope slipped from her fingers, scattering papers across the marble floor. “You… you ruined us. You did this on purpose to get back at me!”
“I didn’t do anything to you,” I replied. “I just reported the theft. The rest was entirely your doing.”
“I’ll tell Mom and Dad!” she shrieked, the sophisticated facade completely shattering. “They’ll be disgusted with you all over again! You’re tearing this family apart!”
I felt a profound, overwhelming sense of peace wash over me. The ghost of that twenty-one-year-old kid standing on the porch finally faded away.
“Tell Harold and Denise whatever you want,” I said, turning my back on her. “I don’t have a family.”
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