Chapter 4 - THE LEDGER SHE HID AT ELEVEN
Navy woke before dawn.
The house was silent.
She dressed in a sweater and trousers, then went downstairs.
In the kitchen, Rosa was preparing coffee.
"Good morning."
Navy smiled faintly.
"Morning."
Rosa placed a mug before her.
"Mr. Ramos is in the study."
"I wasn't looking for him."
"I know."
Rosa smiled.
Navy looked toward the windows.
The Atlantic stretched beneath a pale gray sky.
For the first time since the wedding, she felt she could breathe.
At breakfast, Diego entered quietly.
He stopped when he saw her.
"Good morning."
Navy nodded.
He poured coffee.
Then sat across from her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Finally, Diego said, "I want to ask you something."
Navy raised an eyebrow.
"That would be a refreshing change."
He accepted the remark.
"Did your father keep financial records at the Martin estate?"
Her hand stopped around the mug.
"Why?"
"Because I believe he used his shipping companies to finance the attack that killed my uncle."
Navy looked at him.
"You're wrong."
Diego's expression hardened.
"Arthur Martin ordered Emilio Ramos killed."
"No," Navy said quietly. "He paid someone to make you believe he did."
The silence became absolute.
Diego stared.
"What?"
Navy set down her coffee.
"When I was eleven, I began reading my father's ledgers."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because numbers were the only things in that house that didn't lie."
She took a breath.
"Arthur kept two sets of records. One for accountants. One for people who understood what the money was really buying."
Diego leaned forward.
"Where are they?"
Navy looked at him.
"I have copies."
He froze.
"How many?"
"Enough."
His voice lowered.
"Navy."
She met his eyes.
"Your uncle wasn't killed because of a dispute between our families."
Diego went still.
"Then why?"
Navy swallowed.
"Because he discovered something Arthur Martin was doing with children."
The room seemed to lose all its warmth.
Diego stared at her.
"What children?"
Navy looked down.
"The ones who disappeared from the Martin Foundation's residential programs."
Diego's chair scraped backward.
He stood.
"Explain."
Navy flinched.
He stopped immediately.
Then sat again.
"I'm listening."
She looked at him for a long moment.
Finally, she spoke.
"The foundation funded private residential facilities. They claimed to help vulnerable teenagers. But some children were moved between facilities without proper records."
Diego felt cold.
"Moved where?"
"I don't know."
She swallowed.
"I was eleven. I only knew the numbers didn't match."
Diego stared.
"And Emilio?"
"He asked questions."
May you like
Navy's voice broke slightly.
"Then he died."
