Chapter 8 - THE NETWORK
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
North isn’t one person.
Rachel was the first to recover.
“A network.”
Robert nodded weakly.
“That would explain the different voices.”
Dad looked at him.
“You knew?”
“Not at first.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
The phone chimed.
Another message appeared.
GOOD.
NOW YOU’RE LISTENING.
Marcus checked the network.
“That phone isn’t connected to estate Wi-Fi.”
“Cellular?” Detective Bennett asked.
“No active SIM.”
“Then how is it receiving messages?”
Marcus stared.
“Closed internal frequency.”
Dad looked toward the ceiling.
“Someone inside the estate.”
Marcus immediately spoke into his radio.
“Full sweep.”
The ballroom lockdown suddenly felt different.
We had thought we trapped Preston.
Maybe we had trapped ourselves with North.
The next message arrived.
NORTH WAS CREATED BY NATHAN.
My breath stopped.
Dad stared at the screen.
“What?”
Another message.
HE KNEW ONE WHISTLEBLOWER COULD BE SILENCED.
SO HE BUILT TEN.
Rachel whispered.
“My God.”
Nathan had created a distributed group.
People inside banks.
Corporations.
Political offices.
Security firms.
Maybe even law enforcement.
A network designed so no single person possessed everything.
If one disappeared, the others continued.
Another message appeared.
SEVEN REMAIN.
I stared at the words.
Seven.
“What happened to the other three?” I asked.
The answer came seconds later.
NATHAN WAS ONE.
I swallowed.
ROBERT WAS TWO.
Everyone turned toward my uncle.
Robert closed his eyes.
“I joined after Nathan died.”
Dad stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t trust you.”
That landed hard.
The next message arrived.
RACHEL IS THREE.
Rachel stepped backward.
“No.”
Her face went pale.
“I’m not North.”
Her phone suddenly buzzed.
She looked at the screen.
Then she covered her mouth.
“What?”
She turned the phone toward us.
A single message.
YOU ARE NOW.
Rachel began shaking.
“I swear I didn’t know.”
I believed her.
That was how Nathan had designed it.
Compartmentalized.
No member needed to know every other member.
Detective Bennett frowned.
“If seven remain, who are the others?”
The answer appeared.
THAT INFORMATION IS EARNED.
Dad looked furious.
“Enough games.”
He took Nathan’s phone.
“You want something?”
The screen remained still.
Dad continued.
“You brought us here.”
A message appeared.
NO.
MALCOLM DID.
Everyone froze.
Then.
TONIGHT WAS SUPPOSED TO DESTROY EMILY.
My father looked at me.
I felt the pieces shifting.
Preston assaulting me.
Rachel locked in the library.
The gala at our estate.
None of it was random.
“What was the plan?” I asked.
The answer came.
SEARCH PRESTON’S PHONE.
Detective Bennett immediately contacted the officers holding him.
Two minutes later, Preston’s phone arrived inside an evidence bag.
His attorney protested.
The detective ignored him.
With an emergency warrant request already being processed, she limited herself to the lock-screen notifications.
One message was visible.
FROM: DAD.
MAKE SURE SHE LOSES CONTROL IN PUBLIC.
I stared at it.
Another notification.
CAMERAS ARE READY.
Rachel looked confused.
“Ready for what?”
Marcus suddenly cursed.
“What?”
He pulled up ballroom camera logs.
Several feeds had been rerouted before the assault.
Not deleted.
Edited.
A prepared video file had already been created.
He opened the preview.
There I was.
But the sequence had been manipulated.
The clip began with me stepping toward Preston.
The moment he first grabbed my wrist had been removed.
The audio was altered.
His shove against the wall appeared only after a cut that made it look as though I attacked him first.
A headline had already been attached to the file.
ARDEN HEIRESS ATTACKS SENATOR’S SON AT CHARITY GALA.
My father stared at the screen.
“They knew who you were.”
I nodded slowly.
Preston had pretended not to recognize my name.
Another lie.
Tonight wasn’t about humiliating an anonymous woman.
It was about destroying an Arden.
Then Nathan’s phone chimed again.
MALCOLM HARRINGTON IS STILL INSIDE THE HOUSE.
Marcus looked up.
“We searched.”
The phone chimed once more.
May you like
YOU SEARCHED THE ROOMS.
NOT THE WALLS.
