Vincent spotted the first glitch in the security footage at 8:43 p.m.
Eleven minutes were entirely missing.
Dominic sat behind the desk in his private study while three monitors glowed with camera feeds from the rehabilitation wing.
Clare and Ellie were upstairs in a guest suite with two female staff members Dominic deeply trusted. Clare had initially put up a fight until Dominic explained that whoever had messed with his brace might realize Ellie had witnessed something.
That ended the argument immediately.
Vincent stood guard beside the monitors.
“Camera twelve runs continuously.”
“Usually?”
“Always.”
“And yesterday?”
Vincent tapped the screen.
“From 4:16 p.m. to 4:27 p.m. Nothing.”
“System glitch?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“All the other cameras stayed online.”
Dominic leaned back in his chair.
His leg felt different.
Not healed. Not painless. But definitely different.
For weeks, he had assumed every fresh ache meant his body was simply failing him. Now, he couldn’t help wondering how much of that agony had been artificially manufactured.
Dr. Mercer stood quietly near the fireplace.
“I want medical imaging done tonight.”
Dominic glanced at him.
“Why?”
“If that brace has been repeatedly compressing your nerve, I need to know if there’s any new structural damage.”
“Repeatedly?”
Mercer hesitated.
Dominic caught it instantly.
“You think this happened more than once.”
“I think we need to keep our options open.”
Vincent turned sharply.
“Just how many people have access to that brace?”
“Myself, Dominic, two physical therapists, and three rehab technicians.”
“What about Arthur Voss?”
“He has no medical reason to touch it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Mercer let out a heavy sigh.
“The rehabilitation wing isn’t off-limits to senior household guests.”
Dominic’s cell phone buzzed.
It was Arthur.
He ignored it.
A second message flashed on the screen. Then a third.
Vincent glanced over.
“What’s he saying?”
Dominic read the notifications:
Council members are leaving.
You are making yourself look unstable.
Call me before this becomes an embarrassment.
Dominic calmly placed his phone facedown.
“Pull the access logs.”
Vincent gave a sharp nod. “Already on it.”
A knock sounded at the heavy oak door. One of Vincent’s security officers stepped inside, holding a small plastic evidence bag.
“Found this tucked behind the rehabilitation cabinet.”
Inside the bag lay a tiny precision screwdriver.
Mercer frowned, shaking his head. “That doesn’t belong to us.”
Dominic looked straight at Vincent.
“Any prints?”
“We’ll process it right.”
Another knock echoed through the room. This time, Clare stood timidly in the doorway.
“I’m so sorry.”
Dominic motioned for her to come in.
“What happened?”
“Ellie just won’t sleep.”
“That’s completely understandable.”
“She says she really needs to tell you something.”
Dominic looked at Vincent. “Bring her in.”
Moments later, Ellie padded into the study wearing borrowed pajamas, tightly clutching her wooden latch board. She climbed up onto the sofa beside her mother.
To avoid intimidating her, Dominic stayed seated behind his massive desk.
“What did you remember, sweetheart?”
Ellie stared down at her toy.
“The man wasn’t by himself.”
Vincent’s attention snapped forward.
“Who else was there?”
“A lady.”
“What kind of lady?”
Ellie shrugged. “White shoes.”
Clare frowned, confused. “White shoes?”
“She had squeaky ones.”
Mercer suddenly froze.
Dominic noticed the shift. “Samuel?”
The doctor looked deeply uncomfortable. “Medical-grade shoes.”
“Who wears those?”
“Half the rehab staff.”
Vincent crouched down a few feet away from Ellie.
“Can you remember anything else at all?”
Ellie nodded slowly. “She told him he shouldn’t do it.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “What did the man say back?”
Ellie squeezed her toy tighter, struggling to pull the memory together.
Clare rubbed her back soothingly. “It’s okay, honey.”
Finally, Ellie whispered, “Just enough.”
Dead silence filled the room. Dominic felt a cold chill run down his spine.
“Just enough for what?”
Ellie shook her head. “That’s all.”
Vincent stood up straight. Dominic looked at him.
“Find that woman.”
At 9:17 p.m., Vincent returned with a binder of personnel photos.
Ellie examined them one by one. She passed on the first. Rejected the second.
When she reached the fifth photograph, she stopped cold.
Angela Pierce. Physical therapist. Thirty-four years old. Employed for eight months.
Ellie tapped the picture with a tiny finger.
“Squeaky shoes.”
Mercer muttered a quiet curse.
Dominic locked eyes with him. “Where is she?”
“She left at five.”
Vincent was already pulling out his phone to make a call. No answer.
A security team was immediately dispatched to Angela’s apartment.
It was completely empty. Her car was still parked in the garage. Her cell phone sat on the kitchen counter, and her purse was right where she left it.
But Angela was gone.
At 10:02 p.m., Vincent uncovered another piece of the puzzle.
Arthur Voss had entered the rehabilitation wing yesterday at exactly 4:14 p.m. He left at 4:31 p.m.—lining up precisely with the missing window of footage.
Dominic stared at the access log.
“Arthur knows these records exist.”
“Yes.”
“So either he doesn’t care…”
“Or he figured they’d get erased, too.”
Dominic turned his gaze toward the rain-lashed windows.
“Who has control over the security archives?”
Vincent’s jaw tightened. “My department.”
“Anyone else?”
“Four supervisors.”
“Investigate all four of them.”
Vincent didn’t flinch or object. That was why Dominic trusted him implicitly. A weaker man would have taken the order as a personal insult.
At 10:30 p.m., Dominic finally called Arthur back.
Arthur answered on the first ring.
“Finally.”
“Get back here.”
A short pause. “I’m already home.”
“Then leave home.”
“Why should I?”
“You wanted a vote.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
Arthur went quiet on the other end.
“Is your leg feeling better?”
“Much.”
Another pause. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
The line went dead.
Vincent stared hard at Dominic.
“You’re really bringing him here?”
“I want to look him in the eye.”
Twenty-eight minutes later, Arthur walked straight into the study.
He was wearing the exact same gray suit—no coat, despite the torrential rain outside. He spotted Mercer, then Vincent, and finally let his eyes linger on Dominic’s brace.
“Well, you’ve certainly turned this into quite a theatrical production.”
Dominic gestured toward an empty chair. Arthur sat down.
Dominic slid the access log across the desk.
“You visited the rehabilitation wing yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To see you.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“I figured that out eventually.”
“What were you doing in there for seventeen minutes?”
Arthur offered a cool smile. “Is this an official interrogation?”
“No.”
“Sure sounds like one.”
“An interrogation would involve a lot more people.”
Arthur’s smile faded instantly.
“I spoke with Angela.”
“About what?”
“Your medical condition.”
“Why?”
“Because tomorrow’s vote depends entirely on your health.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Yesterday’s vote.”
Arthur corrected himself without missing a beat. “Yesterday’s scheduled vote.”
“Did you touch my brace?”
“No.”
“Did Angela?”
“She’s a physical therapist. I assume touching braces is part of her job description.”
“Where is she?”
Arthur frowned genuinely. “How on earth would I know?”
Dominic studied him like an open book. Arthur was good—dangerously good.
Then, Ellie appeared quietly at the doorway, with Clare right behind her.
“I’m so sorry,” Clare whispered. “She heard voices and woke up.”
Arthur turned around. For half a second, a flash of pure recognition crossed his face.
Ellie saw him, too. Her expression shifted instantly, and she ducked behind Clare’s skirt.
Arthur quickly recovered his composure.
“Ah, is this the little child?”
Dominic watched him like a hawk.
“What child?”
“The one who’s caused all this unnecessary fuss.”
Once again, he had revealed too much knowledge. Dominic had never mentioned to Arthur that Ellie was the one who discovered the tampering.
Arthur realized his mistake a split second too late.
Vincent caught it, too.
Heavy silence choked the room.
Arthur stood up abruptly. “This is completely absurd.”
Dominic remained seated, entirely calm.
“I agree.”
“You’re seriously going to take the word of a four-year-old over mine?”
“I trust hard evidence.”
“You don’t have any.”
Dominic tapped the printed access log.
“I visited a room in a house I’ve walked through for twenty years.”
“During eleven minutes of mysteriously deleted security footage.”
Arthur’s face drained of color.
“I don’t know anything about deleted footage.”
“I never actually said it was deleted.”
Arthur stared at him in horror.
Slowly, carefully, Dominic stood up from his chair.
For the first time in weeks, the brace didn’t bite painfully into his calf. He stepped out from behind the desk.
Arthur’s eyes involuntarily dropped to his leg.
Dominic caught the movement. “Looking for a weakness?”
Arthur scoffed nervously. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Dominic took another step forward. Then another.
Arthur instinctively backed up toward the door.
“Tomorrow morning,” Dominic said evenly, “we are going to hold your vote.”
Arthur forced a thin smile back onto his face. “Good.”
“But first, every single member of the council is going to review a very specific medical report.”
“What report?”
“The one explaining why my physical condition suddenly and mysteriously deteriorated.”
Arthur’s smile vanished completely.
Suddenly, Vincent’s phone rang. He snatched it up and listened intently.
His expression shifted. “When?”
He paused, listening further. “Keep everyone away from that area.”
Dominic looked at him expectantly.
Vincent ended the call. “They found Angela.”
“Where?”
“In the north parking garage.”
Arthur’s face went bone-white. Dominic didn’t miss it.
Vincent pressed on. “She’s alive.”
Mercer immediately stepped forward. “Condition?”
“Scared, dehydrated, but no major visible injuries.”
“Where was she kept?”
Vincent locked eyes directly with Arthur. “Locked inside a maintenance room.”
Arthur stood completely frozen.
Dominic closed the distance between them. “Interesting.”
Arthur shook his head rapidly. “You actually think I had something to do with that?”
“I think Angela is about to tell us everything.”
Vincent’s phone rang again. He answered immediately, listening for a long moment before looking up at Dominic with a grim expression.
“There’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“Angela keeps repeating that she didn’t reverse the brace herself.”
Arthur let out an audible breath, looking as though a weight had lifted off his chest.
But Vincent wasn’t done.
“She says someone cornered her and forced her to hand over her access codes.”
Dominic stared coldly at Arthur.
“Who?”
Vincent’s tone turned deadly serious. “She won’t say over the phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because she says the person who ordered it has unrestricted access to every single room in this house.”
The realization hit Dominic like a physical blow.
This wasn’t just an outside attack from Arthur’s political faction.
Someone trusted inside Dominic’s own home had betrayed them.
