Chapter 2 - The Woman Named Hannah
The next morning, the gray skies had given way to a bitter, biting cold. I sat at the kitchen island, a cold cup of coffee untouched in front of me, staring at the documents printed from the flash drive.
I needed to find Hannah.
I dug through Daniel’s bank statements and credit card bills for the past three months. Finally, I found it: a recurring payment to Sterling Forensic Accounting & Investigations. I searched the name on my phone and found an office located in downtown Harrisburg. The lead partner was Hannah Sterling.
I didn't call ahead. I put on my coat, grabbed Daniel's envelope and the flash drive, and drove to the city.
Hannah Sterling’s office was small, meticulously organized, and smelled of cedar and old paper. Hannah herself was a sharp-featured woman in her late forties, with piercing brown eyes and hair pulled back into a tight bun. When my name was announced by her receptionist, Hannah immediately stood up, her expression softening with genuine sorrow.
“Mrs. Mercer. Please, come in. I am so deeply sorry for your loss. When I saw the news about the accident… I was devastated.”
I sat in the leather chair across from her desk, placing the navy envelope between us.
“You knew Daniel,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “He left me a letter. He told me to find you.”
Hannah sighed, sitting down and adjusting her glasses. “Daniel hired me four months ago. He had discovered some severe irregularities in his firm’s financial ledgers. Specifically, materials and labor were being billed to properties that didn't exist. When I traced the money, I found a web of shell companies.”
“Owned by my brother, Colin,” I finished for her.
Hannah nodded gravely. “And backed by your father. They were using Daniel’s stellar reputation and architectural licenses to secure massive commercial loans. They’d take the money, build nothing, and shift the funds to offshore accounts. But it gets worse, Abby.”
She opened a locked drawer in her desk and pulled out a thick manila folder, sliding it toward me.
“Your brother is in deep trouble. He didn't just defraud banks. He took money from private lenders. Very dangerous, unlicensed lenders. He owes over a million dollars, and the interest is compounding weekly. The forty thousand he asked you for? That was likely just a missed interest payment to keep them from breaking his legs.”
I felt physically ill. My own flesh and blood had sat in my living room, looking at the empty spaces where my husband and daughter should have been, and viewed it as nothing more than a payday.
“Why didn't Daniel tell me?” I asked, tears blurring my vision.
“He was trying to protect you,” Hannah said softly. “He knew how much you loved your parents. He wanted to have an airtight case to take to the FBI so he could shield you from the fallout. He was finalizing the whistleblower documents the week he died.”
I looked down at the folder. A chilling thought, cold and heavy as a stone, dropped into my stomach.
“Hannah,” I said, looking up at her, my heart hammering. “Daniel and Grace were hit by a commercial delivery truck on the highway. The police said the truck blew a tire, crossed the median, and struck Daniel’s car head-on. The driver fled the scene.”
Hannah’s eyes darkened. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk.
“I know,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Abby, I didn’t want to bring this up until I had absolute proof, but I’ve been looking into the trucking company that owned that vehicle. It’s called Apex Logistics.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“You wouldn't have. It’s a subsidiary. Three layers down, it’s owned by a holding company registered in Delaware.” Hannah turned her laptop screen around to face me. On the screen was a corporate registry document.
There, listed as the primary managing director of the holding company, was Colin’s name.
The air vanished from my lungs. The room began to spin.
“Are you telling me… are you telling me my brother killed my family?” I choked out, gripping the edge of the desk so hard my fingernails bit into the wood.
“I don't believe it was a calculated hit,” Hannah said quickly, though her tone was grim. “Apex Logistics is part of Colin’s scam. He buys cheap, derelict trucks, hires unlicensed drivers under the table to move black-market construction materials, and skirts all safety regulations to maximize his cash flow. That truck shouldn’t have been on the road. The tires were bald. The brakes were failing. It was a tragedy born of your brother’s suffocating greed.”
My brother’s greed had killed my husband. My brother’s greed had killed my little girl.
The grief that had been drowning me for a week suddenly evaporated. In its place, a burning, blinding inferno of rage ignited in my chest. It was a pure, white-hot fury. I thought of Grace’s purple rain boots. I thought of my mother telling me not to "make a scene."
May you like
I stood up. I wasn't shaking anymore.
“Hannah,” I said, my voice stripped of all its fragility. “I want to destroy them. I want to take everything they have, and I want them in prison. What do we do next?”
