Fist slammed against the kitchen counter, a dull thud echoing in the sudden quiet of Sarah’s home. Rage, cold and precise, sharpened her features. Lily deserved justice. Not this slow-burning, hidden truth. “We’re going to find him,” Sarah stated, voice raw, eyes fixed on Elias. No question. Only an absolute resolve. Elias flinched, a subtle shift in his shoulders. “Sarah, you don’t understand. Jonathan isn’t the same man. He’s... powerful now. Connected.” “I don’t care,” she shot back, stepping closer, invading his space. “Connected to what? To who? To the memory of my dead sister, killed because of his greed?” Her breath hitched, a fresh wave of grief momentarily threatening to swallow her. She pushed it down. Anger felt stronger, more useful. “He’s a respected businessman in Northwood,” Elias explained, his voice low, a warning. “He built a real estate empire. He has people, lawyers, reputation.” “Reputation built on lies,” Sarah countered, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “What’s the point of knowing, Elias, if we do nothing?” She watched him, waited. Saw the conflict warring in his eyes. Fear, yes, but something else, too. A flicker of the old Elias, the one who fought for what was right. “What do you propose?” he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper, defeat already seeping into it. “We confront him,” Sarah said, the words firm, unwavering. “We show him what he did. We make him face it.” “It won’t be easy,” Elias warned, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “He’ll deny everything. He’ll twist it. He always did.” “We have the tape,” she reminded him, her gaze intense. “That’s what changed everything, isn’t it? That’s why you came to me.” He nodded slowly. “Yes. The tape. But it’s old. He could claim it’s doctored, or out of context.” “Then we make the context clear,” Sarah insisted. Her mind raced, envisioning the confrontation. Not an ambush in a dark alley, but something public, undeniable. Sitting heavily on a kitchen chair, Sarah pulled her laptop closer. “Where is this ‘empire’ of his? Give me a name. An address.” Elias hesitated for a long moment, then reached for his own phone. His fingers flew across the screen, pulling up information. “Vance Holdings. Main office is downtown Northwood, a glass tower near the river.” “A glass tower,” Sarah repeated, a wry smile touching her lips. “How fitting. Hiding behind clear walls.” Searching online, she found articles. Jonathan Vance, philanthropist. Jonathan Vance, visionary developer. Not a single mention of Willow Creek, or a girl named Lily. “He’s whitewashed his past,” she muttered, a new wave of disgust washing over her. “Erased it. Erased her.” Elias leaned over her shoulder, pointing at a picture of Jonathan Vance, older, sharper, with an unsettlingly confident smile. “He looks… content.” “He won’t be for long,” Sarah promised, her voice laced with venom. “How do we get to him? An appointment? Walk in?” “He’s not going to see us without a reason,” Elias cautioned. “We can’t just show up and expect him to confess.” “We won’t expect him to confess,” Sarah corrected. “We’ll expect him to squirm. To react. And then we’ll have more to work with.” They discussed the logistics, voices low, plans forming in the quiet kitchen. When would he be at his office? Did he have a public schedule? It felt like preparing for battle, not a conversation. “We need to be smart,” Elias stressed, pacing now. “One wrong move, he’ll bury us. He’ll make us look like vengeful relatives, grasping at straws.” “Let him try,” Sarah said, her jaw set. “We’re not grasping at straws. We’re holding a truth he buried alive.” Her determination was infectious, slowly overriding Elias’s trepidation. He saw the fire in her eyes, the righteous anger that had been simmering for years. “Okay,” he finally conceded, a deep sigh escaping him. “Okay. We’ll go.” His gaze fell to the worn audio cassette, sitting on the table where he’d left it. The physical evidence of Jonathan’s complicity. Small, unassuming, yet holding so much weight. He picked it up, turning the plastic reel over in his fingers. The silence in the room stretched, thick with unspoken fears and determined resolve. “He’s going to deny everything,” Elias said, his voice grim, clutching the tape tightly. “We need to be ready.”

Chapter 33: Seeking Jonathan