Chapter 6 - The Dark Truth of the Order
“Touch her and I’ll kill you!” Ryan roared, swinging the bat with full force into the kitchen island, splitting the wood with a loud CRACK.
The two officers drew their tasers, aiming straight at Ryan’s chest.
“Stop!” a voice bellowed from the shattered front door.
Headlights flashed through the broken entryway, casting long shadows across the living room. Tires screeched in our driveway. A dark sedan came to a violent stop right behind the state officers' vehicles.
Dad burst through the doorway, holding a thick red leather file folder in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. Behind him were two uniformed police officers from the local precinct.
“Stand down, state officers!” Dad shouted, his chest heaving as he thrust the papers toward Officer Vance. “That emergency custody order was obtained using forged medical documents! Dr. Harrison’s signature was faked by Diane Mercer!”
Officer Vance frowned, stepping back. “Mr. Mercer, this is a court-issued—”
“I am Robert Mercer!” Dad interrupted, his voice echoing through the house with an authority I hadn't heard in years. “I am the Chief Executive Officer of Mercer Holdings. I just came from the precinct where I filed formal criminal charges against my wife, Diane, for attempted murder and document forgery! The local police have already issued a warrant for her arrest!”
The two private security officers hesitated, slowly lowering their tasers as the uniformed police behind Dad stepped into the foyer.
Officer Vance inspected the precinct paperwork Dad handed her. Her professional composure finally shattered. “This... this affidavit was filed under false pretenses?”
“My wife is a criminal,” Dad said coldly. “Leave this house now, or I will have these officers arrest you as an accessory to fraud.”
Officer Vance closed her binder sharply, nodded to her men, and hurried out the shattered doorway into the night rain.
Ryan dropped the baseball bat onto the floor, collapsing onto his knees, gasping for air. I sank into a dining chair, holding Ava as my whole body trembled uncontrollably.
Dad walked over to us, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Claire... Ryan... we have to go. Diane knows the precinct issued the warrant. She’s fleeing the country, but she won't leave without making sure Ava’s thirty-day window is destroyed.”
“Dad,” I sobbed, looking up at him. “Why is she doing this? Why does she hate me so much?”
Dad looked down at me, his eyes brimming with tears. He reached into his coat and pulled out an old black-and-white photograph, laying it gently on the table.
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It was a picture of my father as a young man, standing next to a stunning woman with soft dark hair and striking hazel eyes—eyes that looked identical to mine in the mirror.
“Claire,” Dad whispered, his voice shaking. “Diane isn't your mother. And Melissa isn't your sister.”
