Marcus’s words, “you can usually find the fuse before it blows,” echoed in my mind as I hurried back to the office. The legal papers Nia had given me felt like a physical weight in my briefcase. I had confirmed the *how* of the arson, but I still needed the *why* and, more importantly, the *proof*.
The bronze mirror on my desk seemed to hum with a silent energy. My grandmother had always said it showed “things that needed to be seen.” I remembered a tiny, almost imperceptible gap where the antique oak backing met the metal frame. A flicker of an idea sparked.
What if the mirror itself held another secret?
I closed my office door, locking it for privacy. My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the heavy mirror. The ornate bronze frame felt cool and solid. I turned it over, examining the dark, aged oak backing.
It was secured with tiny, almost rusted screws. Standard for an antique, but something felt off. The wood wasn’t quite flush in one corner. I found a small jeweler’s screwdriver in my desk drawer, a leftover from fixing a pair of glasses.
With careful precision, I began to unscrew the backing. The first few screws came out with a protesting squeak of old metal. The wood panel felt loose. I gently pried it open, revealing the rough, unfinished interior.
And there it was.
Tucked between the mirror’s silvered glass and the oak backing, hidden perfectly out of sight, was a folded, yellowed piece of paper. It wasn’t a casual note or a forgotten receipt. This was old.
My fingers, usually so steady with architectural drawings, fumbled as I unfolded it. It was a land purchase agreement. Not just *any* land. It was for the historic building on Maple Street – the very building Nia wanted to demolish, the very building I’d seen burning.
The date on the document was almost a decade old. But the names. That’s what made my blood run cold. It wasn’t Apex Commercial listed as the buyer. It was a shell corporation I’d never heard of: “Hollis Holdings Group LLC.” And the signature was unmistakably Nia’s.
Twist 3. An accidentally discovered physical land ledger, hidden behind an antique mirror backing, providing the paper trail proving pre-meditated arson fraud.
Nia had purchased this building *personally* years ago, long before Apex Commercial even considered the redevelopment project. She’d known about its historic designation, its zoning restrictions. This wasn’t about a new high-rise. This was about something much darker.
This document wasn’t just a receipt. It was a key. It was the first piece of undeniable physical evidence connecting Nia directly to the target building, long before any official Apex involvement.
This wasn’t just a workplace drama anymore. This was a crime.
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