Chapter 3 - The Digital Ghost
Rachel stared at the background of Chloe's engagement photo until her eyes burned.
The distinctive mahogany paneled walls and dim lighting belonged to an incredibly exclusive steakhouse in the city.
It was the exact same restaurant Daniel claimed he had been at with his male friends on the night of the fire.
Rachel frantically scrolled further down Chloe’s highly curated timeline.
She specifically looked for posts from four months ago, zooming in on the exact date of the house fire.
There it was.
A photo of Chloe and Daniel sitting closely together in a dimly lit VIP booth at that very same steakhouse.
The timestamp on the photo was 1:15 AM.
Daniel had come home that terrible night at 2:00 AM, claiming he was exhausted from a long dinner with clients.
The fire had started mysteriously in the walls just two hours later.
Rachel’s mind raced as she connected the terrifying dots.
If Daniel was having a heavily documented affair with Chloe, why was he still pretending to be a supportive husband during her first month in the hospital?
Rachel picked up her phone and dialed the number of the original fire investigator, a gruff man named Detective Miller.
He had officially ruled the fire an accidental electrical failure due to old wiring in the rental house.
"Detective Miller, this is Rachel Sterling," she said when he finally answered.
"I need to talk to you about the fire report."
The detective sounded annoyed and exhausted on the other end of the line.
"Mrs. Sterling, the case is officially closed," he sighed heavily.
"I have concrete proof that my husband lied about his exact whereabouts that night," Rachel pushed back firmly.
Miller went totally silent for a long, uncomfortable moment.
"Meet me at the diner on 4th Street in one hour," he finally grumbled before hanging up.
Rachel quickly borrowed her father’s car, wrapping a thick silk scarf around her face to hide her healing bandages.
She drove nervously through the pouring rain, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and pure adrenaline.
She arrived at the retro diner exactly on time and walked toward the back corner booth Miller had specified.
But Detective Miller was not sitting in the red vinyl booth.
Instead, a sharply dressed, silver-haired man sat there, calmly sipping a cup of black coffee.
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It was Daniel’s incredibly wealthy and ruthlessly powerful father, Arthur Sterling.
Arthur smiled thinly and slid a thick, unmarked manila envelope completely across the sticky table.
