Chapter 4 - LOCKER 317
Locker 317 was inside Union Station.
My mother had always loved old places where people disappeared into crowds.
Admiral Reed insisted on accompanying me.
We arrived before dawn.
The brass key fit.
Inside the locker was a battered leather briefcase.
Nothing else.
I opened it.
Three notebooks.
A cassette recorder.
A photograph.
And a sealed letter with my name written in my mother’s handwriting.
My hands shook.
I opened the letter first.
Celeste.
If you are reading this, I was not able to finish what I started.
I stopped.
Reed looked away, giving me privacy.
I forced myself to continue.
Your father is not the man you think he is.
The Meridian did not sink because of a mechanical defect.
Arthur knew the steering control system was defective before the ship left port.
He approved its departure anyway because delaying delivery would have exposed a fraudulent contract.
Thirty-two people died protecting a lie they never knew existed.
My vision blurred.
The letter continued.
Julian knows more than he admits.
Vanessa knows less than she thinks.
Do not trust anyone on the Ashford board.
And if Arthur tells you I was sick, remember this.
I was afraid.
But I was not confused.
I lowered the letter.
Reed stood motionless.
There was one final paragraph.
The evidence you need is not in these notebooks.
It is hidden where Arthur cannot legally destroy it.
Follow the numbers.
I spread the notebooks across the bench.
Every page contained dates, vessel numbers, invoices, and coded initials.
Then I found three numbers circled repeatedly.
11.
12.
13.
“November fourth?”
Reed asked.
“Or coordinates.”
My phone rang.
Julian.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
He demanded.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Celeste, stop whatever you’re doing.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t understand what Dad is capable of.”
That surprised me.
“You’re warning me?”
“I’m warning both of us.”
I looked at Reed.
“What happened to Margaret Hale?”
Julian went silent.
“How do you know that name?”
“Answer me.”
“You need to listen carefully.”
His voice dropped.
“Dad knows about the locker.”
My eyes moved to the station entrance.
Three men in dark coats had just walked inside.
Julian continued.
“He sent people.”
Reed saw them too.
“Move.”
He whispered.
I shoved the notebooks and recorder into the briefcase.
The three men split apart.
One blocked the main exit.
Another moved toward the platform.
The third reached inside his coat.
Reed grabbed my shoulder.
“Run.”
We disappeared down the stairs as footsteps thundered behind us.
For the first time since coming home, I understood the truth.
May you like
Arthur was not trying to protect his reputation anymore.
He was trying to stop me from surviving long enough to expose it.
