A LOVE TO REMEMBER

CHAPTER THREE; A Fall From Grace

One day, as I am reviewing some contracts, I find an anomaly. There were a series of payments that didn’t add up.

They were small enough to go unnoticed but significant when looked at collectively. I dig deeper,

tracing the payments to a shell company. My heart pounds as I realize what I have found.

I confront Dad with the evidence. “Dad, look at this. These payments—they’re not right.

Someone is siphoning money through a shell company.”

His face pales as he examines the documents. “This can’t be. We need to get to the bottom of

this. We have to hand over this information to the LAPD as soon as possible.”

I believe when the truth comes out, the rumors about Dad’s mafia connections will be cleared.

That evening, as we sit down for dinner, Dad raises his glass to me. “To Tessa, for her

dedication and unwavering belief in the truth. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

I smile, clinking my glass with his. “Thanks, Dad. I’m just glad we will be able to clear your

name.”

As we enjoy our meal, I feel a renewed sense of pride in our family and our business. I know

that together, we can handle anything that comes our way.

The day after our hopeful dinner, everything fell apart. Timmy had just received news that he’d

been awarded a fully-funded Australian Awards Scholarship to study at one of the top

universities in the country. We were over the moon. The day we took him to the airport, our

hearts were full of pride and excitement.

“Timmy, this is such a huge opportunity,” Dad said, hugging him tightly.

“Thanks, Dad,” Timmy replied, his eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I’ll

make you proud.”

“You already have,” I added, ruffling his hair.

As we waved goodbye and watched Timmy walk through the airport gates, I felt a sense of hope

and happiness. Little did we know, it was the calm before the storm.

When we returned home, we found the front door ajar. I further pushed it open and was met with a

sight that made my blood run cold. The living room was in disarray, furniture overturned, and

papers scattered everywhere. In the middle of it all stood three men in suits, their expressions

hard and unyielding.

“Miss Lawrence?” one of them asked, his voice firm.

“Yes?” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m Detective Scott, LAPD. We have a warrant for your father’s arrest on suspicion of

involvement in organized crime and drug trafficking. Is he here?”

“No,” I managed to say. “He’s at the office.”

They exchanged glances. “We’ll need you to come with us, Miss Lawrence.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded. I was escorted to the station, my mind a whirlwind of

fear and confusion. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

At the station, I was led to a small, sterile room where I was met by another detective. He

introduced himself as Detective Harris, a middle-aged man with kind eyes.

“Miss Lawrence, we need to ask you some questions about your father’s business dealings,” he

said gently.

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. “What... what’s happening? My dad isn’t a criminal. He

was going to the LAPD with evidence to clear his name.”

Detective Harris sighed. “We received a tip-off this morning about a major deal involving your

father. When we arrived at his office, we found substantial evidence linking him to the mafia. We

also found a large sum of money and illegal substances.”

“No!” I cried, shaking my head. “He would never!”

“Tessa,” he said, leaning forward. “Sometimes, people we trust get involved in things they can’t

control. We need to know everything you know.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking voice, I explained all I knew

Tears streamed down my face as I realized the gravity of the situation. “Please, you have to

believe me. My dad is innocent.”

Just then, the door burst open, and Mr. Hawkins, our lawyer, walked in, his expression grim.

“Tessa, I need to speak with you alone.”

Detective Harris nodded and left the room. Mr. Hawkins turned to me, his face lined with

concern. “Tessa, this is serious. They have enough evidence to hold your father. We need to

gather all the proof you have and build a strong case.”

I nodded, wiping my tears. “I’ll do anything. Just tell me what to do.”

***

The news of Dad’s arrest had shattered my world. The once lively and comforting home was

now heavy with silence and sorrow. And amid this turmoil, Joe was nowhere to be found.

It had been two weeks since Joe had gone to Mexico for an urgent business meeting. His

father's ship carrying vital consignments for their sustainable energy project had been seized.

Joe had to go clear up the mess and ensure the project's progress. We’d been in constant contact

before he left, but now, my calls and messages went unanswered.

One evening, as I sat on the porch, staring at my phone and willing it to ring, Mom came out and

sat beside me.

“Any word from Joe?” she asked softly, her eyes filled with concern.

I shook my head, frustration and worry gnawing at me. “Nothing. It’s like he’s disappeared. I

don’t know what to do, Mom.”

Mom sighed, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “He’s dealing with a lot too, Tessa. I’m

sure he’ll contact you as soon as he can.”

“I hope so,” I replied, my voice cracking. “I just need him right now. I feel so alone in all of this.”

“You’re not alone,” Mom said, pulling me into a hug. “We’ll get through this together. Just keep

trying to reach him.”

I nodded, wiping away tears. “I will.”

Days turned into nights, and the silence from Joe continued. My worry for him was compounded

by the frustration of not being able to make any headway in clearing Dad’s name. Every lead I

followed seemed to lead to a dead end, and every person I reached out to refused to help.

One morning, as I was sifting through a stack of old documents in Dad’s office, my phone

buzzed. My heart leaped, hoping it was Joe, but it was Mr. Hawkins.

“Tessa, any updates on your end?” he asked.

“No,” I said, my voice heavy with disappointment. “I’m still trying to find anyone who can help,

but everyone’s too scared or unwilling to get involved.”

Mr. Hawkins sighed. “I know it’s tough, but we can’t give up. We need to keep pushing. I’ve

been trying to reach out to some contacts as well, but it’s all going at a slow pace.”

The days that followed were a blur of frantic activity. I spent hours going through our records,

looking for anything that could help exonerate my father. Mr. Hawkins worked tirelessly, but the

case against dad was strong.

One night, as I sat in the office, exhausted and overwhelmed, my phone rang. It was mom.

“Tessa, they’re bringing your father home under house arrest. We need to be there for him,” she

said, her voice trembling.

“I’ll be right there,” I replied, my heart aching.

When I arrived home, I found dad sitting in the living room, an ankle monitor around his leg. He

looked older, the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he saw me, his eyes filled with

tears.

“Tessa,” he whispered, reaching out to me.

I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him. “Dad, we’ll clear your name, I promise.”

He held me tightly, his body shaking. “I’m so sorry, Tessa. I never wanted this for our family.”

“We’ll get through this together,” I said, my voice firm despite the fear gnawing at me.

Over the next few weeks, our house became a war room. Mr. Hawkins was there daily, and we

worked tirelessly to gather evidence. Despite our efforts, the case against dad grew stronger.

The media had a field day, and our once-respected family’s name was dragged through the mud.

One evening, as we sat around the dinner table, the atmosphere heavy with despair and Timmy’s

absence painfully noticeable, Mom broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Jason, did you do those things they say?” she asked, her eyes wide with confusion and hurt.

Dad looked at her, tears in his eyes. “I made some mistakes. I trusted the wrong people. But I

swear to you, I never did anything illegal. I was trying to protect our family.”

Mom nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. The once unshakeable trust we had in our

father was now a fragile thing, easily shattered by the harsh realities we faced.

One night, as I was sorting through yet another stack of documents, I found something that

made my heart stop. It was a series of emails between Dad and a man named Victor Russo.

The emails hinted at payments and arrangements that sounded suspiciously like bribes. My

hands shook as I printed them out and took them to Mr. Hawkins.

“This... this could be the key,” I said, my voice trembling.

Mr. Hawkins looked at the emails, his face grim. “Tessa, this is a double-edged sword. It proves

your father was being extorted, but it also implicates him.”

“We have to use it,” I insisted. “We need to show that he was forced into this.”

Mr. Hawkins nodded. “We’ll present it. But be prepared, Tessa. This is going to get uglier before

it gets better.”

***

The courtroom was cold and intimidating. As I sat behind the defense table, I watched as the

prosecution laid out their case with meticulous detail. They painted my father as a criminal

mastermind, involved in drug trafficking and mafia dealings. Every word felt like a dagger to my

heart.

When it was our turn, Mr. Hawkins presented our evidence. He showed the emails, and the

discrepancies in the accounts, and explained how dad had been trying to gather evidence to

bring to the LAPD. The judge listened intently, but the jury’s faces were unreadable.

Finally, dad took the stand. He spoke with a quiet dignity, explaining how he had been coerced

and threatened. His voice broke as he talked about his fear for our family’s safety and his regret

for not coming forward sooner.

When the prosecution cross-examined him, they were ruthless. They twisted his words, making

it seem like he was trying to save himself at any cost. I could see the strain on his face, the

exhaustion and despair.

As the trial dragged on, I felt my hope slipping away. Despite our best efforts, it seemed like the

odds were stacked against us. The final day of the trial was the hardest. As the jury filed back

into the courtroom, I held my breath, praying for a miracle.

“We, the jury, find the defendant, Jason Lawrence, guilty on all charges.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Mom sobbed quietly beside me, and Timmy clung to

her over the video call, his eyes wide with fear. I felt my world collapsing as dad was led away in

handcuffs, his head bowed in defeat...