Chapter 121 - The Other Side of the Glass
The chamber beyond was vast, lined with towering banks of humming data servers submerged in liquid fluorocarbon. In the center of the room sat a massive conference table made of dark, polished mahogany—an exact, terrifying replica of the dining table from our family home in Connecticut.
Set around the table were eight chairs.
And sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a sharp, tailored black suit with silver hair pinned into a severe chignon, was not a stranger.
It was Eleanor.
My mother looked up from a crystal glass of amber scotch, her cold gray eyes settling on my bruised face with the exact same disdain she had worn on Thanksgiving night. Beside her, standing with his hands folded behind his back, was a woman who shared my jawline, my cheekbones, and my eyes—a woman who looked like my identical twin, though her face bore no scars.
Sarah.
"You're late, Emily," my mother said smoothly, setting the crystal glass down on the mahogany table with a soft, deliberate clink. "And you tracked snow onto the floor."
My finger tightened against the trigger of the pistol. "You're dead. The Zurich files confirmed your extraction. The trust was liquidated."
Eleanor offered a faint, chilling smile that didn't reach her eyes. She gestured toward the empty seat directly across from her—the seat where I had sat every Thanksgiving of my life, waiting for my father’s temper to snap.
"The files were liquidated because you performed your role, darling," Eleanor murmured, leaning forward. "We needed a daughter who could conquer the outer board, and we needed a daughter who could manage the deep ledger. You spent your whole life hating your father for striking you, never realizing that he was the only one in that house who was trying to get you to run."
Eleanor tilted her head toward the woman standing beside her. Sarah stepped forward, holding a silver tray on which rested a single, sealed black dossier and an antique revolver.
May you like
"Take your seat, Emily," Sarah said, her voice identical to my own. "Or let the child pay the balance you left behind."
Before I could raise the weapon, the blast doors behind us slammed shut with the force of an avalanche, the heavy hydraulic bolts engaging one by one, sealing Vance, Clara, and me inside the deep trench forever.
