Chapter 4
"From now on, you're a business genius who grew up overseas and just returned to the country," Eddie said.
I stared at the brand-new documents.
I couldn't help but feel the irony.
Ten years behind bars had branded me for life.
But now, they erased it so easily with money.
"What about my old identity?" I asked.
Eddie said, "It's been deleted.
"The Harding who went to prison? He doesn't exist anymore."
My heart sank.
They were severing any ties I had to my past, leaving me with no way back.
And like that, every clue I had to uncover the truth was gone.
Page said, "Mr. Clark, the car's waiting for you downstairs.
"Let's get you some new clothes first, then we'll head back to the Stevens Estate.
"My grandfather, Halbert Stevens, and a few uncles are all waiting for you."
Page was giving orders like she owned the place.
I didn't move.
"I'm not going," I said.
"What did you say?" Page's brows knitted together.
I repeated, "I said, I'm not going to the Stevens Estate.
"I don't need a new identity.
"I'm Harding Clark, the same guy who got out of prison."
Page's face went completely cold.
She snapped, "Don't push your luck.
"Harding, do you really think that because you signed the papers, you can do whatever you want?
"Let me tell you, save your prison tricks for someone else.
"Otherwise, I have a hundred ways to make you regret it!"
Her threats didn't mean a thing to me.
The only thing that mattered was that phone call.
I wondered about that mysterious warning.
I looked at Page and suddenly asked, "Where were you when your dad died?"
Page's body went rigid.
Eddie's expression turned awkward.
"Why are you asking that?" Page said.
"Just asking," I said casually.
"That's none of your business!" Page shot back.
I said, "Alright.
"Let's try another question then.
"How did your dad die?"
"The official story is drunk driving, speeding, crashing into the guardrail, and dying instantly," Page replied.
"Really?" I said.
I smiled, stood up, and walked over to Page.
We were standing inches apart.
I could even see my icy reflection in her eyes.
I said, "But I remember it all too well.
"That night, it wasn't him behind the wheel.
"It was you."
*****
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Page's face went from pale to ashen.
She locked her gaze on me, her lips quivering.
"What did you say?" she stammered.
"I said, that night, you were the one who killed someone behind the wheel," I said.
I kept my voice calm, like I was talking about something that didn't matter at all.
"Your dad made me take the fall for you, to keep you safe," I said.
"That's bullshit!" Page shot back.
She shot to her feet, her voice so sharp it could've shattered the ceiling.
She snapped, "Harding, has prison made you lose your mind.
"The police records from back then are crystal clear. It clearly says you were the one drunk behind the wheel."
"That record? Your dad paid to have it faked," I replied.
I looked at her, my gaze icy, completely devoid of warmth.
I said, "That night, I was your driver.
"You were the one in the driver's seat, dying to test out your brand-new sports car.
"And then you hit a cleaner on the street.
"You totally lost it, and your dad rushed over, handed me 300 thousand dollars, and made me take the fall for you."
Page stumbled back two steps, crashing into the wobbly table.
"No, that's not how it happened..." she stammered.
"That 300 thousand dollars ended up being the very evidence that sent me to prison," I said.
I gave a cold, mocking laugh.
I said, "Your dad was cold-blooded.
"He threw me in prison and made sure the evidence was flawless.
"He even took back the money he handed me."
I stood up and advanced on her, step by step.
I said, "Now you're showing up with his will, asking me to marry you.
"Is your conscience bothering you, or are you here to use me again?"
I had Page backed into a corner.
She was breathing hard, fear written all over her face.
She said, "Harding, you have no proof.
"That's your story."
"Evidence?" I replied.
I pointed at my head.
I said, "This is all the evidence I need.
"I've remembered every detail for ten years.
"Every minute, every second, I've been reliving every detail of that night for ten years.
"You've got a little tear-shaped mole by your left eye. That night, when you were crying, it kept quivering."
Without thinking, Page reached up and touched the corner of her left eye.
That reaction gave her away.
"Mr. Santos, get him out of here!" she suddenly shouted.
She shoved me aside and bolted out the door.