Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Coup
The following Monday, the boardroom of Blackwood Industries was a spectacle of polished wood and cold, calculating gazes. Thomas sat at the head of the table, his posture regal, his expression unreadable. Across from him sat Marcus, the assistant who had 'guided' his recovery for the last six years.
"Thomas," Marcus began, his voice oily. "The merger with the Asian tech firm is ready for your signature. Why are we here?"
Thomas didn't look at the papers. He looked at Marcus. "I was thinking about the past, Marcus. Specifically, about the accident. And about why I don't remember the people who supposedly died in that fire."
Marcus went still. The room, full of board members, shifted in their chairs.
"We’ve been over this," Marcus said, his smile tight. "The trauma was severe. It’s better to leave the dead buried."
"Is it?" Thomas asked. He stood up, walking to the wall-mounted screen. He tapped a button, and the polaroids from Sarah’s shoebox appeared on the screen—the wedding, the house, the small, smiling face of Sophie.
The board members gasped.
"I haven't been a man for six years, Marcus," Thomas said, his voice rising, resonating with the power of a man who had finally found his soul. "I’ve been a machine you built. But the machine has a memory. And the machine is tired of being lied to."
Thomas pulled a legal file from his briefcase and slammed it onto the table. "This is an audit of your personal accounts. Every penny you siphoned from this company to cover up my identity, every bribe you paid to keep my wife and child in the dark—it’s all here. The DOJ is waiting in the lobby."
Marcus stood up, his face turning an ashen gray. "You’re destroying yourself, Thomas! You’ll lose everything!"
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"I already lost everything," Thomas said, his voice ice-cold. "I lost six years of my daughter's life. You think money matters to a man who just woke up?"
Security surged into the room. Marcus fought, his face twisting in a snarl of desperation, but it was over. As he was led away, Thomas looked out the window of the forty-second floor. He wasn't looking at the city skyline anymore. He was looking toward the suburbs.
