Chapter 4: The Fire Wasn't an Accident
"Your husband knew you would be inside that building.""
Gideon's words echoed through my head as I sat across from him the following morning.
Outside his office, Manhattan was waking up. Traffic crawled along the streets, taxis honked, and office workers hurried through the cold November air.
Inside, I couldn't move.
"Say that again," I whispered.
Gideon closed the laptop in front of him.
"Two days before the fire, Preston exchanged several emails with Cassidy and Dr. Hales. The messages suggest they knew the electrical system was compromised.""
"That's impossible. Preston was sleeping upstairs. I woke him when the fire started.""
Gideon opened a printed email.
"Read this.""
The message was dated two days before the accident.
*From: Preston Whitmore*
The inspection needs to happen after Vivian arrives. I don't want her asking questions about the wiring before the weekend.
The reply came from an unfamiliar address.
*From: Martin Hales*
The arrangement will remain as discussed. Make sure she is present.
My fingers went numb.
"What's the arrangement?""
Gideon slid another document toward me.
"That's what we're trying to establish. The messages were deleted from Preston's corporate account, but our forensic team recovered portions of the conversation.""
I read the next email.
*From: Cassidy Vaughn*
And what happens if she survives?
The reply from Preston was short.
Then we follow the original plan.
I covered my mouth.
"No.""
Gideon remained silent.
"Preston wouldn't do this.""
"Vivian—"
"He wouldn't deliberately put me in danger.""
I stood so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor.
"He's a terrible husband. He's a liar. But he wouldn't try to kill me.""
Gideon didn't argue.
Instead, he opened another file.
"There's something else.""
It contained a photograph of the building's electrical control panel. A technician had circled a damaged connection.
The inspection report stated that the system had been deliberately tampered with.
I looked at the date.
The day before the fire.
"Was anyone arrested?""
"No. The original investigation classified the incident as an electrical accident. The technician who filed the report later withdrew his statement.""
"Why?""
Gideon turned the page.
"According to his bank records, he received $75,000 from a consulting company associated with Preston.""
I sank back into my chair.
Everything was beginning to connect.
The insurance payment.
The medical records.
The forged documents.
The payments to Dr. Hales.
"Why would a surgeon be involved in an electrical fire?""
Gideon folded his hands.
"That's the question I want answered.""
He looked directly at me.
"Vivian, I need you to understand something. If these messages are authentic, we're no longer dealing with an ordinary corporate fraud investigation.""
I stared at the laptop.
"What do you want me to do?""
"Nothing reckless. Don't confront Preston. Don't contact Cassidy.
Preserve every message you receive. My attorneys are coordinating with investigators.""
I nodded.
Then I remembered something.
"The night of the fire, Preston wasn't supposed to be at the house.""
Gideon looked up.
"What?""
"He told me he had a business dinner. I went ahead because I wanted to surprise him. He arrived around eleven.""
Gideon slowly leaned forward.
"Do you remember what he was carrying?""
I closed my eyes.
A memory surfaced.
A leather overnight bag.
A bottle of champagne.
And something else.
"He had a small metal case.""
"What kind of case?""
"I don't know. He told me it contained presentation equipment.""
Gideon exchanged a glance with his attorney.
"Do you remember where he left it?""
"In the upstairs study.""
"Was it recovered after the fire?""
I shook my head.
"No. The firefighters said the study had been completely destroyed.""
Gideon wrote something down.
Then his phone rang.
He listened for several seconds before his expression hardened.
"What do you mean they removed it?""
He stood.
"Who authorized that?""
Silence.
"Send me the footage immediately.""
He ended the call.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
"What happened?""
Gideon looked at me.
"Someone entered the company's archive room last night and removed the original insurance file connected to your accident.""
"Who?""
He turned his laptop toward me.
The security footage showed a man wearing a dark coat entering the restricted area.
Even through the grainy image, I recognized him.
Preston.
But what made my blood run cold was the person walking behind him.
Dr. Martin Hales.
And the timestamp.
They had entered the building at 2:13 a.m.
That evening, I returned to our apartment earlier than expected.
Preston was in the living room, speaking on the phone.
"Yes, I understand," he said.
"Just make sure the original paperwork is gone.""
I froze near the entrance.
He turned.
Our eyes met.
His expression changed instantly.
"Call you back," he said, ending the conversation.
I placed my handbag on the table.
"Busy night?""
"Work.""
"At two in the morning?""
He narrowed his eyes.
"What are you talking about?""
I walked toward the kitchen.
"Nothing. Just wondering whether your company has started requiring employees to work night shifts.""
He followed me.
"Vivian, what's going on with you?""
I turned on the faucet.
"Nothing.""
"Don't lie to me.""
I looked over my shoulder.
"That's interesting advice coming from you.""
He grabbed a glass from the cupboard.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
*Dr. Hales: The archive is clean. But the original surgical agreement still exists. We need to deal with Vivian before Friday.*
Preston immediately turned the screen away.
I didn't need to read it twice.
He knew I had seen it.
And this time, he didn't even try to pretend otherwise.
"Vivian," he said quietly, "what exactly did Gideon tell you?""
I dried my hands.
"Why don't you tell me what happened five years ago?""
His face went completely still.
May you like
Then he whispered:
"You should never have survived that fire.""
