Page 61 of Seal My Fate

My father’s arrogance is breathtaking, to just leave it laying around out in the open. But why wouldn’t he feel safe here, in his own home? Wren and Tessa told Phillip that they were giving up and letting the whole matter rest. My father doesn’t know that we have the files copied, or that we’re even coming after the proof to expose all his lies.

He doesn’t know that his own son is still working to bring about his downfall.

I quickly pull out my phone, and snap photos of the passcode—and email them to myself for good measure. Then I tidy up and leave nothing out of place, before strolling back to rejoin the others.

“Ah, there you are,” my mother says, looking up. Nobody is suspicious. I’ve barely been gone a few minutes, after all. “Dinner is ready to be served.”

“Great,” I say blandly, joining Tessa. She shoots me an expectant look, as the others file out towards the dining room, and I wait until they’re ahead of us, before giving her a nod.

“You got it?” she whispers excitedly.

“I think so. Yes.”

She squeezes my hand, pleased, but it feels like I have a lead weight in my stomach as we take our seats for dinner, and even the sight of a perfectly cooked rib roast isn’t appetizing to me.

How could you do it?I wonder, staring at my father across the table, as he makes a show of carving the meat, all smiles and jovial laughter.

How could you betray Edward’s memory, by turning into everything he’d hate?

Chapter16

Tessa

Ibarely sleep a wink, and by the time dawn breaks, we’re already back with Wren at Sebastian’s guarded fortress, nervously watching as Wren enters the sequence that Saint found in his father’s office.

This could be it: Everything we’ve been searching for, so we can expose the truth. All my hopes are resting on that one tiny string of numbers and symbols that Wren is slowly typing into the prompt.

There’s a pause, and I clutch Saint’s hand tighter. Then Wren gives a nod. “It’s the key. We’re in.”

I exhale in a whoosh—thrilled, but even more concerned about Saint now. He’s been quiet ever since we returned from dinner with his parents, and I know he’s still trying to come to terms with his father’s guilt in all of this.

“Do you see the datasets?” I ask, leaning closer.

“Give me a minute,” she protests. “There’s a ton of information here. It’s like looking in a haystack.”

“Oh. OK.”

I wait, biting my fingernails with anxiety as Saint paces back and forth. He’s wired with tension, and I wish I could tell him to relax, but I know that’s impossible. How would I relax, if I was in his shoes, wrestling with my father’s massive betrayal?

Wren clicks around in the drive, my nerves tangling tighter as the minutes tick past. Then, finally, she sounds a bitter laugh.

“There. I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

“You got it?” I demand.

Saint crowds in, as Wren turns the screen around to face us. “Whoever changed the original results, they hid it well. But those are the human trial results they sent for official review,” she says, pointing to one set of spreadsheets, filled with complex numbers and equations. “And that’s the ghost file, hidden on the sub-server. It’s identical—except for these key markers in cognitive response.”

“Plain English,” I remind her.

“They didn’t change much,” Wren translates. “No wild claims, saying it’s a miracle cure. They just tweaked one number a tiny bit, making it seem like there were enough small improvements to add up to a promising result. Enough to get approval, and clearance for general sale.”

“And massive global profits,” Saint adds, looking stunned. I realize that up until this very moment, he was probably holding out hope that we would be wrong about the whole thing.

Now, with the evidence right in front of us, it’s impossible to deny any longer.

“We did it,” I blink, feeling a wave of triumph. “We’ve got what we need to expose them!”

I turn to Wren, beaming, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.

---