Chapter 179
Selina’s POV
The door didn’t slam.
That was the first thing I registered…. The sound of a door that had done this many times before and
found it unremarkable.
I stood in the centre of the cell and listened to the click settle into silence.
The room was small…. Not punishingly small, I had been prepared for worse, had expected worse, had spent the hours of processing imagining dimensions that the reality did not match.
A cot. A sink. A wall of bars looking into a corridor…. I sat on the cot.
The mattress communicated nothing good about what the next hours would feel like.
I sat on it anyway
The interrogation had lasted four hours.
Two detectives…. Reeves, who I recognised from the hospital investigation, and a woman I hadn’t seen
before, They had sat across a table from me with a file between us that grew, page by page, across the afternoon into something I had not walked into the room expecting.
Fraud. They said the word early. Financial manipulation. The clinic payments, routed through the accounts Daniel Cole had documented and cross-referenced with the corporate network that had been
the story’s spine since the night the files went public.
I had Caldwell beside me.
Caldwell had done what Caldwell did…. received each item with the considered patience of someone who had decided not to react until he had the full picture. Taking notes. Occasionally asking for a
clarification.
Then they said the other thing.
A recording….
I had heard about Daniel’s release, had known, from the moment the files went public, that he had released everything he had prepared across the months of the blackmail arrangement. The documents, the financial records, the messages.
I had not known about the recording
“There’s also a video,” the woman detective said. Not dramatically….. the flat, informational delivery of someone communicating a fact. “Recovered from a device connected to your former partner. A conversation between you and a third party. The audio is clear. The content is”…. she paused, chose her word…. “significant.”
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“In what sense?” Caldwell said.
“Significant in the sense that it has attracted the attention of colleagues working on a different investigation,” she said. “An older one.”
She looked at me.
“Ms. Knox,” she said, “are you familiar with a man named Edwin Hargrove?”
The room had been quiet before.
It became a different kind of quiet.
I knew the name.
Of course I knew the name…. it was impossible to have been inside the Mason-Maya orbit for fifteen years without knowing Edwin Hargrove’s name, without understanding what his death had meant for the configuration of everything that came after it, without having at least a structural awareness of the conversations that had existed in certain rooms during certain years.
I knew the name….
I did not know what they had on tape.
“I’m not answering questions about Edwin Hargrove,” Caldwell said, his voice carrying the comfortable authority of a man who had made this statement many times and had never found cause to revise it.
“You don’t have to,” the woman detective said. She looked at me. “But I want you to understand the scope of what we’re discussing, Ms. Knox. This is no longer a financial fraud investigation. This is no longer even a medical interference investigation, though those charges stand on their own. What we’re looking at now is significantly larger.”
She put one more page on the table.
I did not look at it
I looked at the wall behind her head and thought about a conversation that had happened in a different room, years ago, that I had not known was being recorded and that was apparently now living in an evidence file connected to a murder investigation.
“We’ll need more time to review the materials,” Caldwell said
“Of course,” she said.
She picked the page back up.
Closed the file….
And looked at me with the expression of someone who had all the time available and knew it.
The pacing started approximately an hour after the cell door closed
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Not from strategy…
I was trying to identify it, to place which conversation, in which room, with which third party, had been in a location where a device had been running. Daniel had been thorough. He had been thorough in ways I had understood when I understood him, but the recording was a dimension I had not accounted for, which meant I had not fully understood him after all.
A conversation connected to Edwin Hargrove
The detectives working on a murder investigation.
The words had been sitting in my chest since the interrogation room and I had been moving around them rather than through them, because moving through them required acknowledging what they pointed to, and what they pointed to was a dimension of everything that was happening that went considerably further than fraud and medical interference and a holding cell in a police station
I stopped at the bars
Looked into the corridor….
Mason.
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Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.

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