Mrs. Arden.
Mara had not heard it spoken in public since before the crash.
“Yes,” Mara said.
The woman turned to Nathaniel. “Elise Moreno, family court investigator. I was appointed under an emergency review order issued this evening.”
Celeste’s voice sharpened. “This is a private event.”
“Not anymore,” Elise said.
Dorian stepped forward. “I am Ardenwell’s chief operating officer. Any legal matter involving the family should be handled through counsel.”
“Mr. Price,” Elise replied, “you may want counsel before you continue speaking.”
A hush fell so completely that the rain overhead seemed louder.
Elise opened the folder in her hands.
“At 6:40 this evening, the court granted access to sealed documents related to the temporary guardianship of Lena Arden. Preliminary review indicates multiple irregularities, including a psychiatric affidavit filed while Mrs. Arden was under heavy sedation, a discharge authorization bearing a signature inconsistent with known samples, and a guardianship petition submitted before Mr. Arden was notified of his wife’s medical status.”
Nathaniel’s face hardened line by line.
“What?”
Celeste’s smile vanished. “That is a gross misrepresentation.”
Mara reached inside her catering jacket.
Dorian lunged.
It happened so quickly several people cried out. A security guard caught Dorian by the arm before he reached her, twisting him back. Dorian’s calm cracked, his teeth bared for one second before he remembered the audience.
Mara removed a small black flash drive tied to a faded pink ribbon.
Lena lifted her head. “My ribbon.”
“Yes,” Mara said softly. “From your music box.”
Celeste stared at the object.
The fear in her face was almost beautiful.
“That belongs to the company,” Dorian snapped.
“No,” Mara said. “It belonged to the audit file I hid before the crash. Someone searched my office, my car, and the hospital room. But Lena had put it in the bottom drawer of her music box because she thought the ribbon was pretty.”
Nathaniel’s eyes moved to Dorian.
Dorian’s mouth opened, but no answer came.
Mara turned so the whole room could hear her.
“The night I crashed, I had just left a meeting in the west tower. I had proof that Ardenwell funds were being routed through shell contractors attached to land clearances and unsafe demolition sites. Dorian had been moving money for months. I was taking the file to Nathaniel.”
“That’s a lie,” Dorian said.
“Celeste met me in the garage,” Mara continued. “She told me the board would never let a former receptionist destroy a company with the Arden name. She said Nathaniel would choose the company if I forced him. When I refused to hand over the file, she called someone. I remember headlights behind me. Then concrete. Then waking up with straps on the bed and a doctor telling me my daughter was safer without me.”
Nathaniel went still.
“Who?” he asked.
Celeste’s throat moved.
Mara looked at her. “Dr. Soren Vail.”
Another murmur spread.
He was not just any doctor. Soren Vail had treated half the families in that room. He sat on hospital boards, spoke at fundraisers, and smiled in photos beside children whose names he forgot as soon as the cameras lowered.
Elise Moreno handed a paper to Nathaniel.
“We have a recording of a call made from Miss Ward’s private phone to Dr. Vail on May 18, the night of Mrs. Arden’s
