"What did you find?" I asked in a low voice.
"It’s not safe to discuss over the phone," the investigator replied. "I’m sending you a secure chat link now. Check your ssages."
My phone buzzed with a notification. I opened the encrypted ssaging app he’d sent and watched as docunts started appearing.
"Mrs. O’Brien, are you seeing this?" he asked.
I scrolled through bank records, old business docunts, and what looked like college records. My heart stopped when I saw familiar nas.
"Charles Watson and Robert O’Brien," I whispered, reading the partnership agreent dated over forty years ago.
"Your father and Axel’s father were much closer than you probably realised," the investigator continued. "They went way back to their college days. They actually started their first business together."
I stared at the docunts in shock. "What happened?"
"According to what I’ve found, your father began getting greedy. There are records of him siphoning money from their joint accounts and making unauthorised deals. They had a major falling out about thirty-five years ago."
"And then?"
"Axel’s father started his own business after that. They went completely separate ways and that’s it."
"I fell there’s more, keep digging," I said urgently, watching for Axel’s return from the restroom. "And I need you to actively monitor my father’s movents. Give daily updates on who he ets, where he goes, everything."
"Understood."
I quickly closed the ssaging app as Axel returned to the table.
"Ready to go?" he asked, placing so cash on the table.
"Yeah," I said, my mind still reeling from what I’d just learned.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I tried to focus on work, but my thoughts kept returning to the docunts I’d seen. My father and Axel’s father had been partners.
Did Axel know? Was that why he’d married ? For revenge?
The questions swirled in my head until I felt dizzy with overthinking. I worried that by the ti the truth ca out, it might be too much for to handle.
As the workday ended and everyone began leaving, I noticed my assistant Helena still at her desk, typing away.
"Helena," I called out, walking over to her. "What are you still doing here? Everyone else has cleared out."
She looked up with that shy smile of hers. "Oh, I’m almost done, Mrs. Layla. Just finishing up so reports."
"You’ve been staying late a lot lately," I observed, feeling uncomfortable. She reminded of myself just a few years ago; I was always the last person in the library, with no friends or life waiting outside of work or school.
"I don’t mind," Helena said quietly. "There’s not much waiting for at ho anyway."
"What do you an?" I asked, genuinely concerned.
"No pets, no boyfriend. Just... family problems I’m trying to avoid."
I pulled up a chair next to her desk. "Want to talk about it?"
Helena hesitated, then sighed. "It’s my siblings. They’re at sumr camp right now, which is great for them, but my landlord is breathing down my neck about rent. I needed the extra hours to make ends et."
"How old are your siblings?"
"Twelve and fourteen. I’ve been taking care of them since our parents died three years ago."
My heart clenched. "Helena, I’m giving you the week off."
"What? No, please ma’am, I need the work..."
"Compulsory vacation," I interrupted. "And you’ll be paid as though you worked your normal hours."
Helena’s eyes widened in shock. "I... I can’t accept that."
"You can and you will. And I’m taking you out this weekend. You, , and my friend Erica. You’re about our age, maybe a few years younger. It’ll be fun."
"Mrs. Layla, I don’t know what to say."
"Say yes. Now pack up your things. I’m driving you ho."
"You don’t have to..."
"I insist."
As we rode to Helena’s apartnt, she was quiet for a long mont before speaking. "No one has shown this kind of kindness since my parents died. Thank you."
"Everyone deserves kindness, Helena. Don’t forget that."
After dropping her off, I drove ho feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
There was sothing about helping Helena that made genuinely happy. It made question whether revenge was really all I wanted. Would destroying my father bring peace, or would it just create more emptiness?
By the ti I reached ho, an idea was forming in my mind. Sothing bigger than revenge. Sothing that could actually make a difference.
I went straight to my laptop and began typing furiously, drawing up plans for a charitable organisation. An organisation to help won, children, and people looking to break free from abusive households. People who needed a second chance, like Helena.
I pulled out my phone and texted Helena: I have an idea for sothing that could help a lot of people in your neighbourhood. Would you be interested in helping set it up?
Her response ca quickly: ’Of course!’ What did you have in mind, ma’am?
I was still typing out details when I heard Axel’s car in the driveway. He looked tired when he walked in, loosening his tie.
"How was your eting?" I asked.
"Long," he replied. "What are you working on?"
"Actually, I wanted to run sothing by you." I closed my laptop and turned to face him. "I want to start a charitable organisation. Sothing to help people escape abusive situations, get job training, and find safe housing."
Axel’s expression shifted as I spoke, his eyes growing softer. There was sothing in the way he looked at that made my heart skip.
"What made you think of this?" he asked.
"My assistant, Helena. She’s been working late every day to make rent, taking care of her younger siblings since their parents died. It made realise there are so many people out there who just need soone to give them a chance."
I could see sothing changing in Axel’s expression as I spoke with growing passion about my vision.
"I want to call it ’New Horizons,’" I continued. "We could provide temporary housing, job placent services, counselling, and legal aid. Helena lives in a part of town where a lot of people could use this kind of help."
"That’s..." Axel started, and I could tell he had sothing he wanted to say. Maybe even share sothing personal. His eyes had that soft glow I’d only seen a few tis before.
But before he could continue, my phone rang. The caller ID showed the hospital number.
"Mrs. O’Brien?" ca the familiar voice of the nurse I’d been paying to monitor my mother. "I have news. Your mother is awake."
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