Chapter 2 - THE MISSING BROTHER
The crowd erupted when the screens went dark.
People shouted.
Graduates pushed toward the exits.
Parents searched for their children.
Professor Hughes ordered everyone to remain calm, but panic had already spread through the courtyard.
I looked toward the place where Ethan had been standing.
Only my mother remained.
Her hand was still raised as if she were holding his arm.
“Where did he go?”
She looked at me without answering.
The state investigator stepped closer.
“My name is Marisol Grant.”
“Did your brother have access to the files?”
“Yes.”
“Could he destroy the original records?”
My stomach tightened.
“He can destroy the company servers.”
Agent Grant spoke into her radio.
“Send a team to Bennett Technologies immediately.”
My father laughed.
“You cannot enter my company without a warrant.”
Agent Grant looked at him.
“The warrant was signed forty minutes ago.”
His smile disappeared.
She had known about the evidence before the ceremony.
That had been my insurance.
Three days earlier, I had delivered an encrypted copy of everything to her office.
I had not known whether she would believe me.
I only knew I could not walk onto the graduation stage carrying the only copy.
My father turned toward me.
“You planned this.”
“I learned from you.”
My mother stepped between us.
“Emily, please.”
Her voice trembled.
“We can still handle this privately.”
I stared at the woman who had watched her husband hit me in front of five hundred people.
“You lost the right to ask for privacy.”
“You are destroying your family.”
“No.”
“I am exposing it.”
She flinched as though I had slapped her.
Agent Grant ordered my father to remain on campus while officers secured the area.
He had not been arrested yet.
The financial documents required authentication.
The recordings needed forensic analysis.
The search teams needed time.
My father understood that.
He also understood that every minute gave Ethan another opportunity to erase the truth.
Ava Morales appeared beside the stage.
Her dark curls were loose around her face, and she was still wearing her graduation gown.
She had been my roommate for four years.
She had also been the editor of the university newspaper.
“The livestream is still running,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The official screens were shut down, but the student media server has a separate connection.”
She held up her phone.
More than sixty thousand people were watching.
The number climbed as I stared at it.
My father saw the screen.
His expression hardened.
“Turn it off.”
Ava looked at him.
“No.”
He stepped toward her.
A campus officer blocked him.
Ava leaned closer to me.
“Someone accessed the main network from an administrator account.”
“Dr. Lane?”
“No.”
She turned her phone around.
The login record showed the name of the account used to shut down the screens.
CAROLINE HUGHES.
I looked at the dean.
Professor Hughes was standing beside Agent Grant.
She appeared just as confused as I was.
“That was not me,” she said.
Ava lowered her voice.
“Someone cloned her credentials.”
I immediately knew who had done it.
Ethan had spent six months working with Bennett Technologies’ cybersecurity team.
He claimed he was learning how the company operated before becoming an executive.
In reality, he had been learning how to enter systems that did not belong to him.
Agent Grant received a message through her earpiece.
Her face changed.
“What happened?” I asked.
“The officers reached your company headquarters.”
“And?”
“The server room is burning.”
My mother closed her eyes.
My father did not react.
That was how I knew he had expected it.
Agent Grant turned toward him.
“Did you order your son to destroy evidence?”
“You have no proof that Ethan started that fire.”
“I did not say Ethan.”
For one second, my father realized his mistake.
Then his expression became blank again.
Ava’s phone vibrated.
She looked at the message and went pale.
“What is it?”
She showed me the screen.
It was a photograph of my apartment door.
The lock had been broken.
May you like
Under the photograph were seven words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR MOUTH SHUT.
