A Father's Voice on an Old Phone
Chapter 08 - A Father's Voice on an Old Phone
Vivian claimed she had driven out searching for Emma. The police could not prove otherwise, but Julia requested an immediate change of placement. Emma was moved to a temporary foster home while Mason's application was reviewed.
The foster parents were kind, yet Emma still woke screaming. She asked for Mason at breakfast, after school, and before bed. The court allowed two supervised visits each week.
During the first visit, Mason brought nothing but a cardboard box.
"I found this in storage," he said.
Inside was an old flip phone that had belonged to Luke. Its battery was dead, and the screen was cracked. A repair technician from the club spent three nights rebuilding it. Most files were corrupted, but one voice recording remained.
Julia pressed play.
Static filled the room. Then Luke's voice emerged, young and warm.
"Hey, Peanut. You're asleep on my chest right now, and your mom says I'm going to spoil you. She's probably right. Someday, when you're old enough to hear this, I want you to know that the best thing I ever did was become your dad."
Emma stopped breathing.
The recording continued. Luke laughed softly as a baby fussed in the background.
"Family isn't the people who never make mistakes. It's the people who come back, tell the truth, and stay when things get hard."
Mason turned away, covering his mouth with one hand.
Near the end, Luke's tone changed.
"I found the missing charity money. Cal moved it through Vivian's property company. Grace has copies. If something happens, the star opens everything. Mase will know what to do."
The recording ended.
No one spoke.
Julia immediately called the county attorney. The phone was taken as evidence. The old financial investigation into the Steel Saints' charity was reopened, along with Luke's fatal crash and Grace's recent accident.
Mason looked sick. "Vivian and Cal knew each other?"
"More than knew each other," Julia said. "Her company purchased three properties from his towing business. Each sale was far above market value."
Emma stared at the silent phone. "Did they hurt my mom too?"
Julia chose her words carefully. "We don't know."
Mason knelt beside Emma. "But we are going to find out."
The next day, detectives inspected Grace's car. What had first appeared to be a worn steering component showed fresh tool marks. Someone had loosened it.
Two deaths, six years apart, were no longer accidents.
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That evening, Cal Briggs stood across the street from the Steel Saints' garage, watching Mason through the window.
In his hand was a photograph of the courthouse evidence locker—and the music box inside it.
