Chương 4
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Grant looked at the badge again.
“Because Evan Calder was never supposed to die.”
The forest seemed quieter.
Mara felt the words before she understood them.
“What does that mean?”
Grant looked at the injury on her shoulder.
Then at the direction of the cliffs.
“You need to get somewhere safer before dark.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“But it is the only reason you’re still alive.”
Mara stared at him.
She wanted to dismiss him.
She wanted to believe he was another piece of the same machine.
But the way he looked at the badge was not greed.
It was fear.
And fear was something she recognized.
“Did Daniel send you?”
Grant looked away.
That hesitation was enough.
Mara stepped back.
“Did he?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Then Grant corrected himself.
“Not directly.”
The words changed everything.
Mara felt the anger return.
Not the panic.
Not the shock.
The anger.
The kind that kept people moving when they should have collapsed.
“Take me to the crash site.”
Grant shook his head.
“No.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“Actually, right now, I do.”
Mara looked at him.
The old version of herself might have argued.
The old version of herself might have tried to prove she was not injured.
This version understood something else.
Every person who claimed to be protecting her was making decisions without her.
Daniel.
Cole.
Now Grant.
She stepped forward despite the pain.
“Then start explaining.”
Grant looked at the badge.
Then at the mountains.
And whatever he saw there made him stop pretending this was only about Northline.
“Before I explain,” he said, “you need to know one thing.”
Mara waited.
Grant lowered his voice.
“The helicopter was not supposed to go down.”
A cold feeling moved through her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone changed the plan after you got on board.”
Mara looked toward the clouds where Daniel had disappeared.
For the first time since the fall, she stopped wondering whether her husband had tried to kill her.
A worse question had taken its place.
If Daniel had not planned the crash, who had?
If Daniel had not planned the crash, who had?
Mara held Grant’s gaze.
The question sat between them, heavier than the rain gathering on the leaves above their heads.
She wanted an answer immediately.
She wanted a name.
She wanted something solid enough to hold onto after the last few hours had taken everything familiar and turned it into something dangerous.
Instead, Grant looked toward the tree line.
“We need to move.”
Mara did not move.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“You keep avoiding the parts that matter.”
Grant nodded slightly.
“That is also true.”
The honesty irritated her more than a lie would have.
Daniel had always done the same thing.
Admit just enough to make himself seem reasonable.
Leave just enough hidden to keep control.
Mara adjusted her grip on the knife.
“Start talking.”
Grant looked at her shoulder.
“You’re hurt.”
“I noticed.”
“You lost blood.”
“I noticed that too.”
“You’re angry.”
“That one was obvious.”
For the first time, something almost like a smile crossed his face.
It disappeared quickly.
“Daniel was right about one thing.”
Mara’s expression hardened.
“Be careful.”
“He was right that you don’t stop when something doesn’t make sense.”
“That sounds less like a compliment and more like a warning.”
“It’s both.”
The rain began lightly, tapping against the leaves.
Grant picked up his backpack.
Mara watched his movements.
No sudden gestures.
No attempt to get close.
That mattered.
People who wanted control usually rushed when they thought they had an advantage.
Grant was doing the opposite.
He was giving her space.
It did not mean she trusted him.
It meant she was paying attention.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“There’s an old ranger station about a mile east.”
“Occupied?”
“Usually not.”
“Usually?”
Grant looked at her.
“It has been used recently.”
“By who?”
He did not answer.
Mara started walking anyway.
Not because she trusted him.
Because standing on an exposed hillside with a damaged shoulder was a worse option.
The forest made every step difficult.
The ground was uneven, covered with wet leaves and fallen branches.
Grant moved ahead but never far enough that she could not see him.
That was intentional.
She noticed.
She hated that she noticed.
It made her feel like she was still working.
Like this was another inspection site.
Another failure to understand.
Only this time, the thing she was investigating had a heartbeat.
After several minutes, Grant spoke.
“Northline was not the beginning.”
Mara looked up.
“What does that mean?”
“The company was part of something larger.”
“Larger than falsified inspection reports?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Grant stepped over a fallen tree.
“Risk management.”
“That’s a broad term.”
“It’s supposed to be.”
Mara stopped.
Grant turned.
“You mean companies that profit from predicting disasters.”
He nodded.
“Sometimes predicting them.”
The answer landed slowly.
Mara felt her thoughts reorganize.
She had spent weeks looking for the person who altered her reports.
She assumed the goal was simple.
Money.
Avoid liability.
Protect contracts.
But if someone was controlling the information before disasters happened, the purpose was different.
“What were they predicting?”
Grant looked back toward the direction of the cliffs.
“Where failures would happen.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if you understand what failure is worth.”
Mara felt anger rise.
“People died.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Grant stopped.
The rain moved between them.
Then he said quietly, “My daughter was one of them.”
The words changed his face.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Mara had seen that expression before.
At accident scenes.
In families waiting outside hospitals.
The moment someone stopped being an investigator and became part of the damage.
“What happened?”
Grant looked away.
“An apartment building fire.”
Mara waited.
He continued.
“Officially, it was an electrical issue.”
“And unofficially?”
“The building owner had warnings about the wiring.”
May you like
“Northline?”
“Northline reviewed the safety data.”
