Chapter 4 - The Midnight Visitor
Gabriel didn't hesitate. He picked up his phone and dialed a direct number for Marcus Vance, a senior partner at a prominent Hartford corporate law firm whom Gabriel had retained on retainer for corporate contract disputes.
It was 10:30 p.m., but Vance answered on the third ring.
"Hart? It's late. Everything alright?" Marcus's voice was gravelly with sleep.
"Marcus, I need urgent legal counsel regarding trust fraud, forgery, and unauthorized asset liquidation," Gabriel said, his voice clipped and precise.
Marcus was instantly alert. The sleepy tone vanished. "Explain."
Gabriel spent the next ten minutes outlining everything: the forged signatures, the stolen quarter-million dollars, the unauthorized disbursement categories, and the recent online login attempt from his mother's IP or device.
"That's grand larceny and felony forgery, Gabriel," Marcus said grimly. "If your parents attempted to modify the beneficiary profile tonight, they were trying to cut off your access entirely. We need to lock down that trust account with a court-ordered freeze before the banks open tomorrow morning."
"Can we file an emergency injunction tonight?" Gabriel asked.
"I'll wake up a judge," Marcus replied. "Meet me at my office in downtown Hartford at 7:00 a.m. Bring every original document you have—bank statements, trust agreements, tax filings, and those physical letters from the trash."
"I'll be there."
Gabriel hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, staring out the dark window. The rain had stopped, leaving the night quiet and still.
Suddenly, a soft scratch sounded against the front door downstairs.
Gabriel froze.
He listened closely. It wasn't the wind. It was a rhythmic, gentle tapping, followed by the muffled turn of the brass doorknob.
He stood up silently from his desk, stepping quietly out of the office and moving down the dim hallway toward the staircase. He descended the steps one by one, keeping to the shadows, his heart thumping against his ribs.
Someone was trying to enter the house.
He reached the ground floor and crept toward the foyer. Through the frosted glass panels of the front door, he could see the silhouette of a person standing on the porch.
The doorknob rattled again.
Gabriel slipped the security chain off quietly, gripped the handle, and yanked the door open.
Standing on the porch was not an intruder. It was his father, Everett.
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Everett stumbled slightly as the door swung open, blinking against the harsh interior light. He looked smaller, frailer than he had hours ago when they drove away.
"Dad?" Gabriel demanded, blocking the doorway. "What are you doing here?"
