Chapter 4 - The Visit to the Lion’s Den
On Friday morning, Thomas and I drove to the Sterling manor. We didn't bring weapons. We brought a file folder.
Carolyn opened the door herself, draped in silk, a cold smirk plastered on her face. She looked at us, her eyes narrowing with instant disdain. "I don't know what kind of filth you people think you're bringing to my doorstep, but if this is about that pathetic girl—"
"It's about the construction project on Grand View," Thomas said, interrupting her. He didn't raise his voice. He just set the folder on her mahogany side table.
"The one you diverted the county funds into?" I asked. "The one where you forged the safety permits to save six figures on steel reinforcement? The one that is now legally tied to your personal social security number?"
The color didn't just drain from her face; it vanished entirely. She looked at the folder, then at the recording of the attack that I had already uploaded to a secure, time-released cloud link set to blast to every major news outlet in the state if I didn't enter a daily security code.
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"You're dead," she whispered.
"No, Carolyn," I smiled. "We’re just the carpenters. And we’re about to remodel your entire life."
