My Stepfather Sent Me To Patrol A Forest Sector With Standalone Wooden Stairs, Then Erased My Coordinates From The Dispatch Server
Jonah locked Coyle inside the gear room, the heavy external deadbolt clicking shut with a final sound. Just as he pocketed the key, Arthur’s truck crunched up the gravel driveway. Arthur emerged, carrying an iron crowbar, his face set in a grim mask.
He stopped ten feet away, staring at Jonah, who stood perfectly still on the station porch, hands in his belt. Jonah didn’t draw his weapon. He didn’t raise his voice. He simply held up Coyle’s signed confession statement.
“Appraiser Gregory Coyle,” Jonah began, his voice calm, “has just detailed every fraudulent entry made between 2008 and the present day. Every kickback. Every false appraisal.”
Arthur slowly lowered the crowbar to his side. The iron scraped against the gravel. His face, usually a mask of control, was completely devoid of color. The crowbar fell to the ground with a dull thud. His leverage over his stepson had completely evaporated. The threat of violence, of intimidation, had been rendered utterly impotent.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 15 to continue the story.
👉 Previous Decision: You gathered the final pieces of evidence, preparing for your confrontation with Arthur.
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