Chapter 3: A: The Briefcase Secrets

👉 Previous Decision: You chose to force your way inside and search Julian’s locked leather briefcase for evidence.

The click of the deadbolt still echoed in Maya’s ears. Julian was gaslighting her, locking her out. Fury mixed with a cold, desperate resolve. She needed to get inside. Lily was in there, a quiet murmur confirming her presence.

With a surge of adrenaline, Maya located her small hairpin. Julian was meticulous, but she knew his habits. He often kept his briefcase on the small table inside, visible through the glass pane of the compartment door.

A quick glance confirmed he wasn’t looking out. She fiddled with the lock on the berth door, the small metal wire probing the tumbler. A tiny click, then another. The door opened with a soft hiss.

Julian stood in the narrow corridor just outside the next berth, talking softly on his phone, his back turned to her. He hadn’t seen her slip inside.

Inside, Lily slept soundly in her bunk, a tiny hand curled against her cheek. Maya moved swiftly to Julian’s leather briefcase, perched on the small table. It was latched, but not locked. He rarely locked it unless he was specifically hiding something important.

Her fingers fumbled with the clasp, pulling it open. Inside, beneath neatly stacked papers and a tablet, she saw a crisp, official-looking document. Its header, printed in bold block letters, read: “PATERNITY TEST RESULTS – L. LIN-LARSEN.”

Her breath hitched. This was new. Julian had never mentioned a paternity test.

Her eyes scanned the document, flying over the names, landing on the chilling line: “PATERNAL EXCLUSION: JULIAN LARSEN.” He was not Lily’s father. The blood drained from Maya’s face, leaving her skin feeling cold and tight.

Underneath the paternity report, tucked into a side pocket, she found another folded paper. It was a detailed blueprint, labeled “Black River Trestle Bypass & Emergency Access – Mountain Rail Line 237.” Circles in red ink highlighted specific emergency bypass switches. A small, almost imperceptible symbol, a jagged line, marked the very spot where Marcus Kincaid had been trying to engage the manual brake.

Julian hadn’t just sabotaged the train; he had planned this, meticulously. He had known about the old bridge. This wasn’t about a psychotic episode. This was about something far more sinister. Lily. The inheritance. Maya’s 20th birthday was next month, the date when her trust estate would become solely hers.

A voice from the corridor. “Maya? Darling, are you alright in there? I thought I heard something.” Julian’s footsteps were approaching.