"I was angry. I wanted someone to pay for what happened to Michael. I thought if I found the right person and forced them to admit what they'd done, everything would finally make sense."
"And did it?"
"No."
Daniel looked at him.
"Grief doesn't disappear when you find someone to blame. Sometimes it gets worse, because you realize that the person you're angry with is only one part of something much larger."
"Then what should I do?"
"Find out what happened. Preserve the evidence. Let people who understand the legal process examine it. Don't threaten anyone, don't manufacture accusations, and don't decide the conclusion before the facts are established."
"And my father?"
"He's your father. You can love him without agreeing with him."
Ethan looked down at his hands.
"I don't know if I can look at him the same way again."
"You don't have to decide that today."
Daniel picked up the screwdriver.
"Just decide what kind of person you want to be when this is over."
Before Ethan could respond, a woman's voice came from the reception area.
"Mr. Mercer?"
A woman in a dark suit stood beside the front desk, holding a leather folder. She was in her early forties, with short black hair and a composed expression.
"Yes?"
"My name is Helen Brooks. I'm an attorney representing the independent review committee overseeing the old invitational tournament."
"Who sent you?"
"No one sent me. The committee received information about discrepancies in the event records, and your name appeared in several archived reports."
"We'd like to ask you some questions about the incident involving your brother."
"What kind of questions?"
"Questions about the original event, your communications with the organizers, and the circumstances surrounding the medical investigation."
Daniel glanced at Ethan.
The young fighter had gone pale.
"Mr. Caldwell, your name has also been mentioned in connection with recent inquiries. If you have information relevant to the review, we'd appreciate your cooperation."
"I have information."
"Then we should arrange a formal interview."
"The committee is interested in facts, not assumptions. Please preserve any documents, recordings, or messages related to the incident. Do not alter or distribute the materials publicly before we've reviewed them."
"How did you learn about the recording?"
"I can't discuss the source of the initial referral. I can tell you that the committee is aware of a potential discrepancy in the timekeeping record."
Daniel looked at the card again.
For six years, he had tried to persuade people to investigate the discrepancy.
Because once the investigation began, there would be no way to control what it uncovered.
Helen closed her folder.
"I'll contact you with an appointment time."
"One more thing, Mr. Mercer."
Daniel looked up.
"Yes?"
"If anyone contacts you and asks you to withdraw your cooperation, please inform us."
Her eyes briefly shifted toward Ethan.
"That includes anyone who believes they have a personal reason to intervene."
The reception doors closed behind her.
Ethan stared at the business card in his hand.
"An independent investigation," he murmured.
Daniel slipped his card into his pocket.
"Looks that way."
"What if they discover my father did something illegal?"
Daniel looked at him steadily.
"Then the evidence will have to speak for itself."
For the first time, the consequences were no longer theoretical.
The past had begun asking questions of its own.
And neither of them could predict what the answers would cost.
Helen Brooks scheduled Daniel's first interview for Wednesday afternoon.
Before that meeting, she requested a preliminary conversation with Martin Vale, whose name had appeared in the new documentation.
Martin agreed reluctantly.
But after Daniel explained that the committee had approached them independently, Martin agreed to travel into the city.
The meeting took place in a conference room at a neutral office building. Helen sat at one end of the table with a recording device and a legal assistant. Martin sat opposite her, his hands folded tightly.
Daniel and Sarah waited outside.
Helen began with the simplest questions.
"What was your position during the invitational tournament?"
"Chief timekeeper."
"What were your responsibilities?"
"Maintaining the round clock, recording stoppages, and coordinating with the referee."
"Did you observe anything unusual during Michael Mercer's bout?"
"Yes."
"Please describe it."
He explained the timing discrepancy, the instruction to reset the display, and the conversation he had recorded.
"I recognized Paul Danner," he said. "The other voice was less clear."
"Could you identify it today?"
"No."
"Did you see anyone near the timing station when the instruction was given?"
"I saw a woman in the corridor."
Helen looked up.
"Do you know her name?"
"No. She was wearing an event staff badge, but I don't remember the name printed on it."