Chapter17: What Was Buried
919 Words
Selene didn’t open the attachment right away.
She stared at the screen, fingers frozen over the trackpad, chest tight. Whatever waited in that file carried weight—the kind that changed everything once you saw it.
She clicked.
Scanned documents filled the screen. Shipping manifests. Medical licenses. Export records routed through shell companies. Names altered, but addresses familiar—warehouses from childhood drives, offices she’d visited with her father.
Her stomach twisted.
Pharmaceuticals banned in multiple countries. Hormonal injectables sold as “enhancement solutions”—hip growth, breast enlargement, body modification drugs masked as wellness. Pain suppressants laced with narcotics. Compounds linked to organ damage and cancer. And cocaine—pharmaceutical-grade, trafficked under research labels into private markets.
At the bottom of one page: her father’s signature.
Hands shaking, she scrolled. Emails surfaced. Arguments. Warnings. Fear.
One stood out, dated years back:
I can’t continue this. People are getting sick. We’re not bending rules—we’re destroying lives. I became a doctor to save people, not poison them.
Another reply:
You don’t get to walk away. Not after everything you’ve taken.
Selene closed the laptop.
She sat back slowly, body heavy, like gravity had doubled.
Her father had tried to leave.
Someone hadn’t let him.
In Sydney, Austin didn’t sleep.
He sat on the bed’s edge, jacket discarded, phone glowing in the dark. He’d read the attachment hours ago and couldn’t stop.
The documents matched fragments from childhood—whispered fights, locked doors, his mother’s sharp voice when she thought no one heard.
He remembered asking what their company shipped.
“Medical solutions,” his father had said.
True.
Just not complete.
Austin rubbed his face, exhaling hard. This wasn’t corruption. It was calculated harm. People trusted these drugs. Injected them. Built bodies and hopes around promises that were never safe.
And Selene’s father had been part of it.
Until he tried to stop.
His phone buzzed.
Selene.
He answered instantly. “I saw it.”
A pause. Then her voice—tight, almost breaking. “My dad tried to stop it.”
“I know.”
“They didn’t let him.”
“No,” he said quietly. “They wouldn’t.”
She swallowed. “This isn’t everything, is it?”
“No. It never is.”
Silence stretched.
Then she asked what he’d dreaded.
“Did your parents know?”
Austin closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Next morning, Austin arrived at the office early.
Not to work.
To watch.
He tracked who moved freely, who avoided certain floors, which files needed extra clearance, who stiffened at casual questions.
He noted shipments relabeled by destination, audits redirected, complaints vanishing.
At noon, he called his mother.
“I want access to the old distribution archives.”
Pause. “Why?”
“I’m stepping into leadership. I should know what I’m inheriting.”
Longer pause.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with outdated matters,” she said smoothly.
“That’s not an answer.”
Her voice hardened. “Austin. Some things are protected for a reason.”
“From who?” he asked. “The public? Or me?”
She exhaled. “Be careful.”
He ended the call.
Across the country, Selene left the apartment for the first time in days.
Sunglasses on. Jacket zipped. Head down. The world felt loud—cars, footsteps, voices all blending into noise that made her flinch.
She slipped into a small café, ordered tea she barely touched.
Her father’s face flashed—tired, guilty, afraid.
She remembered late nights he came home staring at his hands like they weren’t his. The warning once: “If anyone asks about my work, say nothing.”
She hadn’t understood then.
Now she did.
Her phone vibrated.
Austin.
I think they’re still moving shipments.
Her fingers tightened on the cup.
They won’t stop, she typed.
No, he replied. But I might.
That evening, Diana stood in front of her mirror, adjusting an earring.
She looked radiant. Calm. Almost happy.
Phone buzzed.
Unknown sender.
She opened it.
The girl isn’t gone.
Her expression shifted.
He lied to you.
Diana’s jaw tightened.
She deleted it.
Then retrieved it.
Stared at her reflection.
Not anger first.
Fear.
Because if Selene was alive…
The past wasn’t buried as deep as she’d thought.
At dinner that night, Austin’s parents were unusually attentive.
His mother served him herself. His father asked about plans. Too polite. Too careful.
They knew.
“You seem restless,” his father said.
“I’m thinking,” Austin replied.
“That can be dangerous.”
Austin met his gaze. “So can secrets.”
His mother’s fork paused midair.
“We’ve built something powerful,” she said. “Don’t let sentiment destroy it.”
“Sentiment?” he repeated. “You mean conscience?”
Her smile faded. “You don’t understand the world the way we do.”
“No,” Austin said evenly. “But I’m starting to understand who you are.”
Silence fell.
Later, alone in his car outside the house, Austin sat gripping the wheel.
Phone buzzed again.
Selene.
I think they’re watching me.
His chest tightened.
Where are you?
In the apartment. But I feel it. Like before.
Austin’s hands clenched.
Pack a bag. Only essentials.
“Austin—”
Please, Selene.
A pause.
Okay.
He started the engine.
Whatever his parents hid, whatever deals they’d made, whatever lines they’d crossed—one thing was clear.
Selene wasn’t just a loose end.
She was a threat.
And so was he.
- Writer
