Chapter 6 - THE TAPE RECORDER
The room went dead silent. Even the tactical men paused, confused by the sudden shift in my mother's demeanor. Patricia’s face drained of color. “I didn't push him,” I said louder, standing up. I looked at Michael's scarred face. “Mom pushed you. I tried to pull you out.” Michael dropped the brass lamp. Tears welled in his eyes. “You remember.” “I’ve carried the guilt of a ghost my whole life,” I said, walking toward my mother. “You convinced me I was a monster, so you could lock him away and control me.” “He was clumsy! It was an accident!” Patricia shrieked, backing into the hallway. “Then why keep the drawing?” I demanded. “Why hire mercenaries?” Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, old-fashioned microcassette recorder. “Because she didn’t just lock me away, Ryan,” Michael said. “She stole my trust fund. Ten million dollars. She used it to build your company. And I have the recording of her admitting it to Uncle Robert.” Patricia’s eyes darted to the recorder. “Get it!” she screamed at the men. The larger man lunged at Michael. But Michael was faster. He sidestepped, grabbed the man’s arm, and used his momentum to send him crashing down the narrow wooden stairs. The second man hesitated, looking at his fallen partner. Realizing she was losing control, Patricia did the unthinkable. She lunged toward the hole in the wall and grabbed Lily by the hair. “If I can’t have the Carter heir,” Patricia snarled, pulling a terrified Lily out of the darkness, “I’ll take this one.”
