Chapter 13 - Under the Angel's Wing
Two hours later, under the cover of dense river fog, Julian and Lily entered the iron gates of St. Jude Memorial Garden. Julian had discarded his ruined tuxedo jacket, wearing a mechanic’s coat he found aboard the maintenance barge. Lily wore Julian’s vest over her dirt-streaked flower girl dress, holding his hand with unwavering trust.
The graveyard was silent, draped in mist and moonlight. Ancient oak trees stretched twisted branches across rows of weathered headstones. In the center of the clearing stood the statue: Archangel Michael, sword raised, his left wing broken off halfway down the stone feathers.
Julian knelt at the base of the monument. Dense ivy choked the granite pedestal. Using a small pocket knife from the barge, Julian began slicing away the thick vines near the foundation.
""Right here, Daddy,"" Lily pointed to a carved rose at the foot of the angel. ""Mommy said you press the middle petal.""
Julian pushed the stone petal with his thumb. With a dull click, a small rectangular stone slab loosened in the pedestal base, sliding forward to reveal a waterproof metal container. Inside rested a digital voice recorder, a USB flash drive, and a handwritten sworn affidavit bearing Elena's notarized signature.
Julian clicked the playback button on the recorder. Elena's voice, frail yet crystal-clear, filled the quiet mist:
“If you are listening to this, Julian, Rebecca Montgomery’s family has succeeded in silencing me. They intentionally altered my chemotherapy trials to cover up thirty-two fatalities in their experimental drug project. But they don't just want the company; they want Lily, because my father left fifty-one percent of the Montgomery voting shares directly in her name, managed by a blind trust until her eighteenth birthday. They will kill me, and they will try to take her. Protect our daughter, Julian. At all costs.”
Tears tracked hot through the grime on Julian's cheeks. It was never about his company’s debt. It was about Lily’s rightful ownership of the Montgomery empire.
Before the recording could finish, the sharp click of a revolver cocking shattered the night air behind him.
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""Such a moving performance, Elena,"" a soft, familiar voice purred from the shadows of the chapel archway.
Julian turned slowly. Rebecca stood there, wearing a black wool coat over her pristine wedding dress, a small silver handgun leveled directly at Julian's chest.
