Chapter 36 - The Wedding Date
Mara refused to postpone the wedding.
Graham tried exactly once to suggest it.
They were standing inside the damaged records room while contractors replaced drywall.
“We could move the date.”
“No.”
“Mara—”
“No.”
“There’s an active federal investigation.”
“Yes.”
“Our nonprofit accounts are frozen.”
“Yes.”
“Someone tried to burn the building.”
“Yes.”
“Eli is being threatened.”
“Yes.”
Graham stared at her.
“You're impossible.”
“You proposed.”
“That may have been poor risk assessment.”
She kissed him.
“June twenty-first.”
He exhaled.
“June twenty-first.”
Arthur walked past carrying lumber.
“Good. Elaine already paid the caterer.”
Graham looked offended.
“Nobody consulted me.”
Arthur snorted.
“It's a wedding. You’re decorative.”
Despite the humor, pressure intensified.
A forensic review showed the financial records leaked to media were convincing.
Too convincing.
Someone had fabricated bank transfers using Foundation House’s real account numbers.
The fraudulent transactions appeared to send $480,000 to a Cayman Islands company.
Mara studied the documents with Graham’s accountants.
“The metadata says these were generated from our accounting software.”
“Which means somebody had access,” Graham said.
Arthur frowned.
“Who?”
Only six people had administrative credentials.
Graham.
Mara.
Their CFO.
The nonprofit treasurer.
The outside accountant.
And Judith Harper.
Nobody wanted to say Judith’s name.
Especially Graham.
“She’s seventy-nine,” Arthur said.
“That doesn't make her incapable of clicking a mouse,” Owen replied.
“It also doesn't make her guilty.”
Mara called Judith.
No answer.
They drove to her house.
The front door stood unlocked.
Graham entered first.
“Judith?”
Silence.
Tea sat cold on the kitchen table.
A chair lay overturned.
Mara found Judith’s phone beneath it.
Arthur noticed muddy footprints near the back entrance.
Sloan arrived within fifteen minutes.
No blood.
No sign of forced entry.
But Judith’s car remained in the driveway.
“She didn't leave voluntarily,” Mara said.
Sloan agreed.
Then Owen found something taped beneath the dining table.
A small envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note.
GRAHAM—
IF THEY COME FOR ME, LOOK WHERE THOMAS KEPT THE CHILDREN WHO WERE NEVER OFFICIALLY THERE.
J.H.
Graham read it twice.
“What does that mean?”
Arthur looked disturbed.
“Children who were never officially there?”
Sloan called Daniel Mercer.
Daniel went silent when she read the note.
Then he whispered, “Coldwater.”
“What’s Coldwater?” Graham asked.
“An old juvenile work camp south of town.”
“Was it part of Midwest Youth Transition?”
“Not officially.”
Graham’s stomach tightened.
Daniel continued.
“Some kids got sent there when contractors didn't want them anymore.”
“What happened to them?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you ever go?”
“No.”
A pause.
“But Rachel did.”
Eli stood in the doorway.
Everyone turned.
“How do you know?” Mara asked.
“My sister told me.”
His voice shook.
“She said there was a place outside the city where they kept records no one wanted in computers.”
Graham looked at Sloan.
“Coldwater.”
She nodded.
“I’ll pull property records.”
Eli stepped closer.
“Rachel went there the week before she died.”
The room changed.
“Why?” Graham asked.
“To find proof.”
Eli swallowed.
“She came home scared.”
“What did she say?”
“That Bridgewell wasn't the beginning.”
He looked at Graham.
“It was the replacement.”
“For what?”
Eli’s eyes dropped to Judith’s note.
May you like
“For what they started doing to kids like you.”
And suddenly the scandal surrounding Foundation House looked much older than anyone had imagined.
