CHAPTER 122

TRENT'S POV

Lydia's words echoed in my mind, each one driving the truth home like a dagger to the heart. "...the man, he was there that day. He was with my husband, lurking around outside the car, watching him hit that poor man down the street."

So it was true - my father hadn't simply been an accessory to whatever cover-up Mr. Stewart was involved in. No, he was the one pulling the strings from the very beginning.

The memory of Lydia's pained expression as she struggled to recall more details as she said. "I'm sorry, but I really didn't get a view of the man he hit," she'd said, that same vacant look clouding her eyes once more.

Of course she hadn't - because there was no random victim, no tragic vehicular accident at all. Just a cold-blooded assault staged by my father's own hand.

I pushed through the front door of the house, But the sight that greeted me made my blood run cold.

There was my father, pacing back and forth as he barked furiously into his phone. "What did you just say?