THE CALLER FROM THE GRAVE
Rain hammered the long windows of the Harrington Estate as if trying to claw its way inside. The chandelier lights glimmered over rows of glasses filled with champagne, blue-and-cream balloons, and a giant sign reading Welcome Baby Lucas!—a baby who, as far as the Harrington guests knew, represented the “golden heir” of one of the state’s most powerful political families.
But the truth was far uglier than the decorations suggested.
by Shower
Olivia Carter-Harrington, thirty-three, award-winning architect, founder of Carter Studio, and recently featured on Forbes Women, descended the stairs with one hand on her seven-month belly. She wore a simple ivory dress; she hadn’t wanted this extravagant baby shower. Her husband insisted.
No—her husband demanded.
The guests—politicians, business partners, judges, developers—turned toward her with the same rehearsed smile: polite, distant, calculated.
And then came the woman who shouldn’t have been there.
Celeste Marrow, twenty-eight, in a blood-red dress that sparkled every time she moved. A lobbyist rumored to have gotten half a dozen bills passed simply by batting her eyelashes at the right men. Men like Olivia’s husband, Congressman William Harrington.
Celeste sipped champagne, eyes gleaming with cold amusement as Olivia approached.
“Liv,” William said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Try not to look so tense. This is a celebration.”
He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she flinched. His fingers pinched her waist hard—too hard for a public setting. She inhaled sharply.
He whispered, “Behave.”
Olivia forced a smile. She’d been forcing a lot lately.
For months, she’d ignored the late-night meetings, the lipstick stains, the perfume on his collar. She endured the sudden rages, the slammed doors, the threats to her business. She had loved him once. Believed in him once. A stupid, naive version of herself had even defended him.
But tonight, the truth would come crashing down in a more violent way than even she’d imagined.
2. The Accusation
It happened during the toasts, right after Celeste clicked her glass with practiced grace.
“To William,” she said, “and the bright future of his beautiful family.”
Her tone made several guests shift uncomfortably. She let the pause linger.
“And to the baby,” Celeste added lightly, “though… well… perhaps we should toast to the real father instead?”
The room froze.
Olivia felt her heart plunge into her stomach.
William snapped, “Celeste. Enough.”
But Celeste only smiled wider.
“Oh come on, Will. Are we really going to pretend this child is yours?” She turned to the guests, eyes glittering. “Will told me the baby wasn’t his. Said Olivia was—how did you phrase it?—‘sleeping around to compensate.’”
Gasps erupted. Olivia’s pulse roared in her ears.
“That’s a lie,” she breathed.
Celeste shrugged. “Why don’t you tell them what you told me, Will?”
William’s face flushed red. Not with shame.
With fury.
“YOU HUMILIATED ME ENOUGH!” he shouted at Olivia instead. “You think you can trap me with a bastard child?”
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
Before Olivia could move, he stepped toward her. Too close. Too fast.
“Will—” someone tried to grab him.
But it was too late.
In front of sixty witnesses, Congressman Harrington raised his polished leather shoe—
—and kicked his pregnant wife’s belly.
Olivia crumpled with a scream that tore through the hall.
Chaos exploded. Guests shouted. Someone called 911. Celeste covered her mouth in mock horror.
But William didn’t look sorry.
He looked satisfied.
He pointed at Olivia on the floor.
“Take your bastard and get out of my house,” he snarled.
Olivia felt warm liquid spreading beneath her. Panic spiraled through her body.
Was she losing the baby?
Her vision blurred. People knelt beside her. The room spun.
Then darkness.
3. The Hospital
When she regained consciousness hours later, a soft beeping filled the room. White walls. Sterile air. A nurse adjusting her IV.
“The baby?” Olivia choked out.
The nurse smiled gently. “He’s okay. Strong heartbeat. Some bruising, but stable.”
Relief flooded her so intensely she nearly sobbed.
But then the nurse hesitated. “Your husband hasn’t asked about you. But… reporters are outside. Police too.”
Of course they were. The baby shower had been filled with prominent people—and cell phones.
The scandal was already erupting.
She closed her eyes.
Everything she had built—her firm, her reputation, her seemingly perfect life—was shattering.
Then the nurse added, “There’s someone waiting to speak with you. He says he’s family.”
“Family? My mother is in Florida. I don’t—”
“He said you’d understand if I told you his name is… Thomas Carter.”
Olivia’s heartbeat stopped.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
Because Thomas Carter—her father—had died twenty-five years ago. Plane crash. No survivors.
Yet the nurse nodded. “He insisted.”
The door opened before she could react.
A tall man walked in. Gray beard. Weathered face. Kind eyes she had only seen in old photographs.
“Hello, Olive,” he said softly.
Her childhood nickname.
Olivia’s breath broke. “Dad?”
He stepped closer, tears in his eyes. “I’m here now.”
The shock crashed over her like a tidal wave.
4. The Truth About His “Death”
Her father sat beside the bed, voice steady even as emotions trembled underneath.
“I didn’t die in that crash, Olive. I was meant to. The plane was sabotaged. But I survived.”
Olivia stared, numb.
“Why didn’t you come back? Why did you let us think—”
“Because I was protecting you.” His jaw tightened. “I uncovered something dangerous. Corruption at federal levels. A network of politicians selling influence to criminal organizations. When I tried to expose it, they came after me. The plane incident was a warning.”
He exhaled slowly.
“I entered witness protection. Couldn’t contact your mother or you. Not until the case resurfaced—and not until I had enough power to stop them.”
“And now?”
“Now I have it,” Thomas said quietly. “Because I didn’t just survive. I spent twenty years gathering evidence, waiting for the right moment. Last month, the DOJ reopened the investigation.”
Olivia covered her mouth.
Thomas continued, “And your husband—Congressman Harrington—is one of the key figures involved.”
The puzzle pieces slammed together. Her father’s disappearance. William’s sudden political rise. His connections. His wealth. His violent desperation.
Her entire marriage made horrific sense.
Thomas placed a leather folder on her lap.
“In this folder is everything proving William’s collusion, bribery, and organized racketeering. Enough to put him away for life.”
Olivia shook, not from fear—but from awakening.
Her father touched her hand. “You don’t have to fight him alone anymore. I’ll handle the legal battle. But I need you to decide something.”
She met his steady gaze.
“Do you want to end him, Olive?”
She didn’t hesitate.
