A Midnight Package Delivered To My Desk Contains A Severed Hand And A 60-Minute Timer Pointing To My Son's Family
👉 Previous Decision: You chose to challenge Clara directly in front of the precinct command staff using Sarah’s bank logs.
I slammed Sarah Lindqvist’s printed financial ledgers onto the briefing table, the papers scattering. “This isn’t about my cognitive decline, Clara. This is about a $1.2 million wire transfer!”
Clara remained perfectly calm, not even flinching at the sudden noise. Her gaze swept over the command staff, then settled back on me.
“Captain,” she said, her voice clear and steady, “you’re referring to this document?” She picked up one of the scattered pages. “It appears to feature your old syndicate alias as the primary signatory.”
A murmur ran through the room. My alias. The one I thought was buried forever. Dominic stared at the ledger, his face pale.
“Victor, this outburst…” Dominic began, his voice laced with genuine concern. He turned to the senior officers. “I think it’s clear. We need to freeze his administrative access. For the good of the department. For the good of the family.”
The precinct leadership exchanged glances. My defiance had backfired. They voted. The outcome was swift and unanimous. My access to precinct intelligence systems was cut.
I was isolated, cut off from the very tools I needed to fight back.
➡️ Read Chapter 11 to continue the story
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