The Ghost of the Foundation
Three weeks passed. The Vance empire crumbled in a spectacular public display of bankruptcies and arrests. Marcus Vance was denied bail, while Julian was placed under house arrest, a broken man waiting for a sentencing hearing.
Clara had found sanctuary in an old, abandoned community center in the lower district—the very neighborhood that had been devastated by the Vance project collapse. She used the remaining funds she had legally inherited from her mother to establish a makeshift legal aid clinic.
One afternoon, an unexpected visitor arrived. It was Eleanor Vance, the matriarch of the family, a woman who had rarely been seen in public without a string of pearls and a security detail. Today, she wore a plain coat, her face lined with age and stress.
"Clara," Eleanor said, her voice trembling but retaining a trace of her former authority. "I didn't come to beg for my sons. They made their choices, and they will pay for them."
"Then why are you here, Eleanor?" Clara asked, not rising from her desk.
Eleanor placed a thick leather ledger on the desk between them. It looked ancient, its corners frayed. "Because my husband didn't act alone. Ten years ago, when the lower district plaza collapsed, the city councilman who approved the safety waivers wasn't bribed with money. He was blackmailed. By someone much more powerful than us."
May you like
Clara looked at the ledger. "Who?"
"Thomas Sterling," Eleanor whispered. "The current Governor. If you want true justice for your father, Clara, you're only halfway there."
