Damian’s jaw tightened. Until then, everyone had believed Flynn had deceived his father, exploiting the old man’s fiery temper to make Mabel the scapegoat.
Phoebe’s revelation destroyed that assumption.
“What did your father do?” Damian asked, his voice dangerously low.
“He confronted Flynn. They had a furious argument behind closed doors. Flynn admitted he owed money to dangerous people and promised to repay it. But my father said a public scandal involving his son would destroy the Vance family name and jeopardize our bank credit lines.”
Phoebe opened the folder. Inside were printed email chains, internal bank audits, and a handwritten note written on Arthur Vance’s personal stationery.
“Two days later,” Phoebe whispered, “my father and Flynn decided to blame Mabel.”
Damian felt a wave of nausea. “Arthur Vance knowingly allowed an innocent woman—a single mother—to be framed and destroyed to protect his deadbeat son?”
Phoebe lowered her gaze. “He didn’t just allow it. He orchestrated the narrative.”
That evening, Mabel sat in Damian’s study and silently went through every document.
One page contained direct instructions from Arthur Vance to his chief corporate counsel: Direct all internal audit focus toward Mabel Sterling. She holds primary administrative access.
Another document was an internal memo in which Flynn admitted to his father that he had made unauthorized withdrawals.
The most incriminating evidence was a handwritten note from Arthur Vance himself:
Flynn will reimburse the corporate accounts over time. The discrepancy must remain attributed to the accounting clerk.
Mabel read the sentence three times. Slowly, she placed the paper on the mahogany desk.
“So they knew,” she said softly.
Nobody replied.
“While I walked through town and people pulled their children away from my daughter… they knew.” Her voice cracked with raw, painful emotion. “While I applied for basic jobs and was told that no one would ever trust a thief near a cash register… they knew.”
Damian moved toward her, but Mabel lifted one hand to stop him. She needed to get everything out.
“When Lily was sick and I couldn’t afford a private clinic visit… they knew. When rain soaked through our roof and ruined our clothes… they knew. When I dragged that secondhand mattress two miles down a dirt road because I didn’t have twenty dollars for a truck… they knew!”
She turned toward Phoebe Vance. “And you knew, too?”
Phoebe openly wept. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you speak up?”
