It wasn't Evan's. Clare stood behind him. She looked at the paper. Then her face changed. I know that handwriting.
Daniel turned. Who's my husband's? A sound came from the hallway. They both froze. Then a child's voice called out.
"Dad." Daniel spun around. Evan stepped from the doorway. His cheeks were red from crying. Daniel rushed to him.
He dropped to his knees and pulled his son into his arms. "Where were you?" Evan clung to his jacket. ""Mr. Collins took me."" Daniel looked toward Clare. "Who?" ""The chairman."" Evan pointed at the window.
"He said you were going to help, Mom." Daniel's jaw tightened. "Where is he?" Evan pulled a small folded drawing from his pocket. "He said you'd know."
Daniel opened it. It was a drawing of a Christmas tree. Underneath it was an address. An old Hartwell owned theater downtown, the same building Daniel had noticed in the maintenance records. The chairman wasn't running, he was waiting.
At 11:38 p.m., Daniel, Clare, and the police arrived outside the theater. The building had been closed for years. Inside, the Christmas decorations from some forgotten event still hung above the stage. Clare walked forward. Her husband stepped from behind the curtain.
Older than the photographs, colder than the memory. Clare. She stopped. You're alive. He smiled.
You always were sentimental. Daniel moved between them. Where's the chairman? Her husband laughed. "Gone."
Daniel tightened his grip on the hard drive. "You used Lily." "I needed Clare to come." "You used a child." "She was never supposed to be hurt."
Daniel stepped closer. That's what people say right before they explain why it was necessary. Clare touched Daniel's arm. "Let me." She walked toward her husband.
"What do you want?" Your shares. You already have the documents. Documents can be challenged. He looked toward Daniel, but witnesses are harder to erase.
Clare understood. "You want me to take the blame?" He nodded. You signed tonight. The company survives.
Lily gets her father back. Clare stared at him. You think that's a choice? No. He smiled.
I think it's motherhood. Clare's eyes filled, but she didn't move. Daniel noticed something. The old theat's emergency lights were blinking once, twice, three times. A signal.
He looked toward the balcony. A police officer was there. They had surrounded the building. Clare saw it, too. She took one final step toward her husband.
Then she dropped the hard drive. He lunged for it. Daniel moved. The two men collided. The hard drive slid across the stage.
Clare kicked it toward the police. Her husband pulled Daniel down. Daniel hit the floor. A moment later, officers rushed in. The struggle ended almost as quickly as it began.
Her husband was handcuffed. Clare stood completely still. She looked at him. There was no anger on her face, only exhaustion. "You lost your daughter long before tonight," she said quietly.