Chapter 8: The Truth Malik Buried
I wanted to hate Malik Holloway.
It would have been easier.
Hate has rules.
Hate creates distance.
Hate lets you put someone into a box and stop asking questions.
But Malik kept making that impossible.
Because every time I found another reason to blame him, I found another piece of evidence that he was carrying his own scars.
Still, pain does not disappear just because someone else is hurting.
“You were there,” I said again.
Malik sat across from me in silence.
My mother was upstairs.
Jordan was resting.
The whole house felt like it was holding its breath.
“Tell me what happened.””
He looked at the floor.
“I was seventeen.””
“That doesn’t answer my question.””
“No.””
He looked up.
“It doesn’t.””
For a moment, he looked younger.
Not like the businessman people saw on magazine covers.
Just a scared teenager.
“My uncle called me to the restaurant that night.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why?””
“He said my father needed help.””
“And?””
“When I got there, Daniel was arguing with Raymond.””
I closed my eyes.
My father.
Alive.
Standing there.
Fighting.
“What were they saying?””
“Your father had copies of the records. He knew about the fraud.””
Malik swallowed.
“He told Raymond he was going public.””
“And you watched?””
The words came out sharper than I intended.
But I didn’t take them back.
“I was scared.””
“You could have helped him.””
“I know.””
That answer hurt more than an excuse.
Because he wasn’t defending himself.
He was admitting it.
“Then what happened?””
Malik looked at me.
“Raymond told me to leave.””
“And you did.””
“Yes.””
The room went silent.
“I thought he was just trying to scare Daniel.””
His voice cracked.
“I thought people like Raymond threatened. I didn’t think he would actually do it.””
“But he did.””
“Yes.””
I looked away.
The anger was there.
The betrayal.
But there was also something else.
Understanding.
A painful kind of understanding.
Malik continued.
“Two days later, when I heard Daniel was dead, I knew.””
“Knew what?””
“That my uncle had crossed a line.””
“Then why didn’t you tell anyone?””
He closed his eyes.
“Because I was a coward.””
The honesty stunned me.
“I convinced myself nobody would believe me. I convinced myself I was protecting my family.””
He looked around the room.
“But all I did was protect a monster.””
I didn’t forgive him.
Not then.
Maybe not ever completely.
But I believed him.
And sometimes belief is the first step toward something else.
Before I could respond, Jordan walked into the room.
“You guys need to see this.””
He held a laptop.
His face was serious.
“We found the location of the original files.””
Malik stood.
“How?””
Jordan pointed to the screen.
“The code.””
My eyes narrowed.
“The symbols?””
He nodded.
“Dad wasn’t just marking transactions. He was leaving coordinates.””
My heart started racing.
“The files were never in the restaurant.””
Jordan zoomed in.
“They were moved before the fire.””
“To where?””
He looked at me.
“A place nobody would suspect.””
The answer came before he said it.
“Holloway headquarters.””
Malik went still.
“The old archive room.””
“You know it?””
“Yes.””
“Then that’s where we go.””
But Malik shook his head.
“No.””
I looked at him.
“No?””
“It’s a trap.””
“Of course it is.””
“That’s exactly why.””
He stepped closer.
“Raymond knows we’re looking. He wants us there.””
I held up the silver box.
“My father knew someone would have to go.””
Malik stared at it.
Then he nodded.
“Then we go prepared.””
The plan was simple.
Get the files.
Record everything.
Leave.
But plans involving Raymond Holloway never stayed simple.
The archive room was hidden beneath the old executive floor.
A place even most employees didn’t know existed.
When we entered, everything looked untouched.
Too untouched.
That should have warned us.
The moment we opened the cabinet, alarms sounded.
Red lights flashed.
Doors locked.
Malik looked at me.
“We need to move.””
Then a voice came through the speakers.
Raymond.
“I wondered how long it would take.””
I felt my hands tighten.
“You’re finished.””
His laugh echoed through the room.
“No, Nia.””
A pause.
“You’re finally seeing how this works.””
Smoke began filling the hallway.
Not enough to kill us.
Enough to scare us.
Enough to remind us of the fire.
Raymond wasn’t trying to destroy evidence anymore.
He was trying to destroy us.
But he forgot one thing.
My father survived long enough to leave a path.
And I had spent my entire life learning how to follow it.
I opened the silver box.
Inside was a small key.
Not a metaphor.
Not a symbol.
A real key.
I inserted it into the hidden lock beneath the archive cabinet.
The drawer opened.
Inside was a sealed envelope.
On the front, in my father’s handwriting, were four words.
“For Nia. When ready.””
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was one final message.
One sentence.
May you like
And when I read it, I knew the fight had only begun.
“Trust no Holloway, except the one who tells the truth.””
