Chapter 6 - MY BROTHER’S VERSION OF LOVE
Victor Vale was my younger brother by four years.
As children, he followed me everywhere.
If I climbed a wall, he climbed higher.
If I got into a fight, he arrived before anyone called him.
When our father disappeared into prison appeals and our mother retreated into pills and closed bedroom doors, Victor and I raised ourselves.
Then Ava came along.
Our little sister.
For years, I told myself the three of us had survived because we were loyal to each other.
That belief lasted until 8:12 the next morning.
Gabriel entered my study holding a tablet.
“Victor’s gone.”
I stared.
“Gone where?”
“Left Vale Tower at five forty. Driver took him to Midway.”
“Flight?”
“Private charter filed for Toronto.”
“Filed.”
“Yes.”
“Did he board?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Charter canceled.”
“By who?”
“Victor.”
Claire stood near the fireplace.
Noah sat at the breakfast table in the adjoining room with Ms. Holloway, filling out a form about foods he liked and apparently treating it as a hostile interrogation.
Leo and Lila were upstairs doing morning stretches with their new therapist.
The house had become less like a fortress and more like a pediatric clinic with armed landscaping.
I preferred it.
“Where is Victor now?”
Gabriel’s mouth tightened.
“He called.”
I looked up.
“When?”
“One minute ago.”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“He asked for you.”
My phone rang.
Victor.
Claire said, “Speaker.”
I answered.
“Where are you?”
My brother laughed softly.
“No hello?”
“Where?”
“Somewhere you won’t send men.”
“I’m not sending men.”
Silence.
He did not believe me.
That was fair.
“You’re using police now?” he asked.
“When crimes involve my children, yes.”
“Look at you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Respectable.”
I almost hung up.
Instead:
“Did you pay Sloane?”
Victor’s breathing changed.
Not enough for guilt.
Enough for fear.
“Charles is talking.”
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
Claire closed her eyes.
I felt nothing yet.
“Why?”
“Because you were destroying yourself.”
“No.”
“Richard—”
“No. Give me the version that doesn’t pretend you love me.”
Silence.
Then his voice changed.
Harder.
“I needed you out of the company.”
There.
“Why?”
“Because every division waited for your mood. Every executive was afraid you’d reverse a decision because Leo had a bad night or Lila cried after therapy.”
My hand tightened.
“So you bought their doctor.”
“I paid Sloane to manage expectations.”
“You paid him outside normal billing.”
“Yes.”
“You asked him to keep them immobilized.”
“No.”
“Did you ask him to delay aggressive rehab?”
Pause.
That was enough.
“Victor.”
“He said early loading carried risk.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I told him I wanted no new experimental programs until after the quarter.”
Claire went white.
I stood.
“You delayed my children’s therapy for a quarter.”
“I delayed chaos.”
“You don’t get to rename it.”
“Richard, you were not functioning.”
“And that gave you the right to use their bodies as a calendar?”
He said nothing.
I could hear city noise behind him.
A truck.
Horn.
He was still in Chicago.
“Did you cause the accident?”
“No.”
I waited.
“Richard.”
“I’m listening.”
“No.”
“Did you know the signal controller was opened?”
Silence.
Claire reached for my arm.
My heartbeat slowed.
“Victor.”
“I knew after.”
“After what?”
“After the crash.”
“How soon?”
“Two days.”
“Who told you?”
“Owen Pike.”
That was impossible.
Pike told our investigator he had reported the open cabinet but never knew who removed the test module.
“Why would he tell you?”
“He didn’t know who I was. I called through Lakefront Municipal.”
“So you knew someone had tampered with the signal.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I thought it was connected to the Marzano dispute.”
“You let me believe I caused it.”
“I didn’t know what to tell you.”
“You could have started with the truth.”
He laughed bitterly.
“In this family?”
Fair.
Not enough.
“Who put the module there?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Why run?”
“Because Charles is going to blame everything on me.”
“You paid Sloane.”
“Yes.”
“That part doesn’t require Charles.”
“No.”
“What else?”
Victor breathed out.
Then said, “Check the Lakefront contractor approval from the morning of the accident.”
Gabriel was already typing.
“What about it?”
“Someone authorized emergency testing at 6:10 a.m.”
“The accident happened after eight.”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized it?”
Victor said nothing.
Gabriel found the record.
His face changed.
“Richard.”
“Name.”
He turned the screen.
RICHARD VALE EXECUTIVE OFFICE.
Digital approval.
My credentials.
I stared.
“I didn’t sign that.”
Victor said, “I know.”
“How?”
“You were at the port.”
“So?”
“Your executive token was in the house safe.”
I turned to Gabriel.
He nodded.
“Likely.”
Victor continued.
“Only four people had access.”
“Me. Claire. Gabriel. You.”
“No.”
My skin went cold.
“Then who?”
“Ava.”
The dead can still rearrange rooms.
I forgot how to speak.
Claire whispered, “Ava died three years ago.”
“Yes,” Victor said.
“Her access was never fully removed.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“Legacy token.”
I looked at him.
He nodded slowly.
“After her death, some family administrative credentials were archived rather than destroyed.”
“Who controlled them?”
“Family office.”
“Who ran family office?”
Victor answered.
“Charles.”
The room went quiet.
Another circle.
Another accusation.
I was tired of family members handing me one another like weapons.
“What are you saying?”
Victor said, “Charles used Ava’s old authorization to make it look like your office.”
“Proof?”
“I found the archived token checked out under a maintenance override.”
“By Charles?”
“No name.”
“Then you don’t have proof.”
“I have the log.”
“Send it to my attorney and the police investigator.”
He laughed.
“You really have changed.”
“No. I’m trying not to make the same mistake twice.”
“What mistake?”
“Believing the first person who gives me someone to hate.”
He went quiet.
Good.
I continued.
“Where are you?”
“No.”
“If you think Charles set you up, running makes you look guilty.”
“I am guilty.”
At least that.
“I paid Sloane. I pressured him. I helped keep you distracted. I used your children’s injury to control a company.”
Claire looked sick.
Victor’s voice broke.
“But I did not cause the crash.”
I believed he believed that.
Different thing.
“What do you want?”
“Protection.”
“From who?”
“Charles.”
“Why?”
“He knows Maya Reed had evidence.”
My eyes narrowed.
“How?”
“Because Sloane told him.”
“Why would Sloane talk to Charles?”
“Charles arranged everything.”
“No. You just said you paid Sloane.”
“I paid. Charles introduced us. He handled the contract.”
The old division of guilt.
One finds the doctor.
One pays.
One tells himself no one meant harm.
“What happened to Maya’s laptop?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did Charles?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Sloane?”
“Yes.”
That matched.
“Where are you?”
Victor exhaled.
“I’m coming in.”
Claire stared.
“To us?”
“No. Police.”
Good.
“What changed?”
He was silent for several seconds.
Then:
“I saw the picture of Noah.”
My stomach tightened.
“What about him?”
“Maya brought him to the office once.”
“When?”
“Three years ago. He was five.”
“Why?”
“She was meeting Sloane. Childcare fell through.”
“So?”
“Ava saw him.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Ava was there for the foundation.”
My sister had died three years ago.
Same year.
Different month.
“What happened?”
“She bought Noah hot chocolate.”
My throat tightened.
That sounded like her.
Victor continued.
“When I saw his face, I remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
“Ava told me Maya was scared.”
“Of Sloane?”
“She said Maya thought someone was using patient treatment to manipulate a family.”
“The Vales.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t Ava tell me?”
“You were already fighting with her.”
That was true.
Ava hated the businesses I would not leave.
She told me fear was not leadership.
I told her she was naïve.
Two weeks later, she died from a sudden cardiac condition no one knew she had.
I had spent three years sleeping cold because the last conversation we had was an argument.
Comfort belonged to the brother she loved.
Cold belonged to the man who failed to call back.
“Did Ava know about my twins?”
“No. This was years before their accident. Maya’s concerns were broader.”
“So the corruption predated them.”
“Yes.”
The twins were not the beginning.
They were another opportunity.
I looked at Noah through the open doorway.
He was drawing a hamburger next to FAVORITE FOOD while Ms. Holloway patiently explained that “everything except green stuff” was not a food category.
His mother had seen a pattern.
Ava had heard her.
Then both women died for unrelated reasons before anyone fixed anything.
Not conspiracy.
Something sadder.
Truth can fail simply because everyone with a piece assumes someone else will carry it.
Victor said, “I’m at District Twelve.”
I looked at Gabriel.
He checked.
“Police confirm a Victor Vale just entered with counsel.”
My brother had surrendered himself.
Not for the accident.
For the medical payments and related corporate misconduct he was prepared to admit.
I felt no victory.
Only exhaustion.
Then Ms. Holloway appeared in the doorway.
“Mr. Vale.”
I ended the call.
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
I looked toward Noah.
His backpack was gone.
So was he.
I stood.
Gabriel moved.
Ms. Holloway raised her hand.
“He was not taken.”
“How do you know?”
“Security camera shows him leaving through the kitchen.”
“Why?”
She held up a piece of paper.
A note.
Three words.
I FOUND MOM’S PROOF.
Below them:
DON’T FOLLOW ME.
I almost laughed.
Eight years old and already giving me impossible orders.
Then Gabriel looked at the estate camera feed.
His face changed.
“What?”
“Noah left ten minutes ago.”
“Yes.”
“He isn’t alone.”
He turned the screen.
Across the road, a black sedan had pulled away behind Noah.
Registered to a company owned by Charles Vale.
May you like
I no longer needed someone to give me a person to hate.
I needed to bring a child back before another adult used him as evidence.
