Marcus Carter sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of documents and photos. His fingers traced the edge of an old photograph of his sister, Theressa Evelyn Carter. This picture was taken long before she had to live in a hospital room.
Years of sickness had stolen her vitality, but they had never broken her spirit. Even from her hospital bed, Theressa remained a beacon of strength. That was why her unexpected passing troubled Marcus deeply, leaving him with a sense of doubt.
She had been improving—or so the doctors claimed. Then, without warning, she was gone.
Marcus's jaw clenched as he flipped through the pages of his journal. For years, he had watched Robert Williams, Evelyn's husband, tighten his grip on XY Corps while his sister's health mysteriously declined. There were too many unanswered questions, too many convenient coincidences.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Sarah walked in, carrying a folder. "I spoke to some of the hospital staff," she said, setting the folder down. "Most of the nurses were tight-lipped, but one nurse mentioned that she had a closer bond with Miss Evelyn than the others, so she was willing to talk."
Marcus leaned forward. "What did she say?"
"She mentioned that your sister was showing signs of improvement just a month before her death. Her vitals were stable, and the doctors were hopeful. But then, out of nowhere, her condition took a sudden turn for the worse."
Marcus’s stomach tightened. "Did the nurse notice anything unusual?"
"She mentioned a few things that I didn't consider important, except that Robert visited her alone the night before her death."
Silence hung heavy in the room as Marcus's fingers curled into fists. "Of course he did."
Sarah's voice softened. "Do you think he had something to do with it?"
"I don’t think, Sarah. I know." His voice was low, controlled, but seething with uncontrollable fury. He needed to punch something—anything at all. "Robert always had a way of making problems disappear. And my sister was becoming a problem, even from her hospital bed. She knew too much about his past dealings at XY Corps."
Sarah hesitated. "There's more to the story. The nurse said she was responsible for meeting all of Mrs. Evelyn's needs. However, because she struggled with sign language, Mrs. Evelyn kept a private journal. She used it to jot down her daily requests—like food or a change of clothes. But it wasn't just that. She mentioned that she poured her thoughts, feelings, and even her regrets into it, writing heartfelt messages for her sons and loved ones, right up until the day she passed away."
Marcus’s eyes sharpened. His heartbeat quickened in anticipation and hope. There might be a clue in that journal, no, there has to be. "Do we have it?"
Sarah shook her head. "It’s missing. The nurse said it was always by her bedside, but after Robert’s visit, it vanished."
Marcus stood abruptly, pacing the room. "That journal is the key. If Theressa wrote down what she knew, it’s in there."
"And if Robert took it?"
Marcus’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Then I’ll get it back."
The rain fell harder outside, making a loud noise against the glass. Marcus felt more determined. He realized he had allowed Robert to take advantage of him and his family for too long.
Evelyn had spent years fighting for her life, only to have it stolen from her in the end. Marcus owed it to her to uncover the truth and bring Robert down.
"Keep digging," he told Linda. "Find anyone who might know where that journal went. I don't care how long it takes."
Sarah nodded. "Understood."
As she left, Marcus returned to his desk, his gaze falling on the photograph of his sister. Her smile was a memory now, but her fight lived on in him.
"I’ll get justice for you, Evelyn," he vowed quietly. "No matter what it costs me."
All he needed to do next was to convince James to investigate again. 
........ 
Robert was alone in his study, holding a glass of bourbon. The room was dim, lit only by a desk lamp that provided a faint glow over the papers and photographs in front of him. He felt a heavy weight from the past in the stale air pressing down on him. Among the litter was a framed photo that had troubled him for years—his wedding picture with Evelyn.
He stared at it, his hand tightening around the glass until his knuckles turned white. Evelyn looked radiant in her white gown, her smile full of life and love. Her eyes, bright with hope, gazed at him as though he was the only man who mattered. She had trusted him, believed in him, and even when he had started to drift into his darker ambitions, she had stood by his side, refusing to leave cause of how much she loved him.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips, rough and hollow. Trust. What a fragile thing, so easily shattered yet impossible to mend. He drained his glass in one long gulp, the burn doing little to numb the ache gnawing at his chest. The empty glass hit the desk with a dull thud, his mind spiraling back to the choices that had led him here.
He had been so certain he was doing the right thing when he stole XY Corps from Evelyn. It was supposed to be for their future, for their family. At least, that’s what he told himself at the time. But deep down, he knew the truth—it wasn’t about them. It was about him. His pride, his hunger for power, his desperate need to prove that he was more than the man her family had always underestimated.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he muttered to the empty room as if the walls could understand him. But he knew that was a lie. There had been a choice—a choice to stand with Evelyn, to build their dream together. Instead, he had destroyed her trust and stolen her life’s work.
Evelyn had built XY Corps from the ground up, her brilliance as an innovator unmatched. She was a visionary, turning ideas into reality with a passion that inspired everyone around her. But as the company gained traction and power, Robert began to feel overshadowed. The whispers of others—questioning why he was content to ride on his wife’s achievements—festered in his mind, fueling a resentment he couldn't shake.
He convinced himself that Evelyn wasn’t capable of managing such a massive enterprise, especially with her overly trusting and kind-hearted nature. She was too idealistic, too soft. The world of business was ruthless, and Robert believed only he had the stomach to overcome its treacherous waters.
Using his position as her husband and business partner, Robert began forging documents. He manipulated contracts and legal agreements, crafting a web of lies so brilliant that even the sharpest mind would struggle to unravel it. He convinced Evelyn to sign “routine” papers under the guise of protecting the company from external threats, subtly transferring ownership shares and key decision-making powers to himself. And because Evelyn loved and trusted her husband, she signed without reading through them. She trusted him and never believed he could do anything to hurt her. 
Behind the scenes, Robert worked tirelessly to manipulate key board members and investors. He promised larger deals and greater profits, sowing seeds of doubt about Evelyn’s leadership. Slowly but surely, he turned them against her, ensuring they would back him in a hostile coup/takeover.
The day came swiftly. Robert presented a stack of legal documents to Evelyn, his expression cold and guiltless. She stood frozen, disbelief etched across her face as he delivered the crushing blow.
“XY Corps is no longer yours,” he had declared. “You signed it all away.”
Evelyn’s soft voice trembled with fury and heartbreak. “You stole my life’s work! How could you? I trusted you!”
Robert didn’t flinch. His heart had already turned to stone. “You’re too weak to lead a company like XY Corps. I did what had to be done. Don't worry, I will take care of you and make sure you never lack”
Her tear-streaked face was a sight he would never forget, though he told himself it was necessary. He had won—secured control of the company and silenced the doubts that plagued him. The victory felt empty and left a bitter taste.