Zane sat across from his lawyer, Matthew Crane, in the wood-paneled office that felt equal parts intimidating and reassuring. Matthew, a seasoned attorney with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, was flipping through the file in front of him, his expression unreadable. Alessia sat beside Zane, her posture stiff but supportive, her gaze flicking between her brother and the lawyer.
“Alright, Zane,” Matthew began, his voice calm but firm, “I need you to tell me everything, step by step. I don’t care how small or irrelevant it seems. We can’t build a defense unless I know exactly what happened.”
Zane leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and exhaled deeply. “We had a small argument that morning,” he admitted, his voice low. “Pamela was upset because I forgot to lock the garage door before bed.”
Matthew’s pen paused mid-note. “Did this argument escalate? Was there shouting? Anything a neighbor could have overheard?”
“No,” Zane said quickly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. She wasn’t even angry—just annoyed. I told her I’d be more careful, and we moved on.”
Matthew nodded, jotting something down. “Go on.”
“We both went to work as usual,” Zane continued, his voice steadying slightly. “But I forgot my breakfast. Pamela being… Pamela, she brought it to me during her lunch break. That’s why she was at my building later.”
Alessia interjected softly, “That’s just like Pamela. She was always thoughtful.”
Zane nodded, a faint, wistful smile flickering across his face before it disappeared. “Yeah, she was. She dropped it off, stayed for a few minutes, and then said she’d head back to work. I figured that was it.”
Matthew leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes fixed on Zane. “And when did things take a turn?”
Zane’s expression darkened. “I got off work early. When I got home, Pamela was there, which surprised me. She said she wanted to talk about something.”
“What was it?” Matthew asked.
“I don’t know,” Zane admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “We never got to that point. She seemed… distracted, maybe a little upset. I thought it was about the garage door again or something else small. I didn’t push her to talk because I figured she’d bring it up when she was ready.”
Matthew scribbled a few more notes, then looked up. “And then?”
Zane swallowed hard, his hands gripping his knees. “She went to the balcony. She liked to go out there when she needed to think. I stayed in the living room, scrolling through my phone. Then, I remembered I left my jacket in the car, so I went to get it. I took the elevator down.”
He paused, his voice trembling. “When the elevator doors opened, I saw her falling backward. It all happened so fast. One second, she was there, and the next…” He trailed off, his hands shaking.
Matthew’s pen stopped moving, and he leaned forward, his tone steady but urgent. “You’re saying you weren’t even on the balcony when she fell?”
“I wasn’t,” Zane said firmly, meeting his lawyer’s gaze. “I didn’t push her. I swear on my life.”
Alessia placed a hand on Zane’s arm, her voice soft but resolute. “I believe you, Zane. And Matthew’s here to help prove that.”
Matthew tapped his pen against the table, his expression thoughtful. “The fact that you weren’t on the balcony is critical, but we need to substantiate it. Did anyone see you leave for the elevator? Any security footage?”
Zane sighed heavily. “The cameras weren’t working on my floor. Alessia told me the PI found that out.”
Matthew’s brow furrowed. “That’s highly unusual. The cameras in a building like yours are always on. I’ll have someone investigate why they weren’t.”
Alessia nodded. “I’ve already asked Marcus, the private investigator, to dig into that. It’s too convenient.”
Matthew scribbled another note. “Good. Now, back to Pamela. Did she seem particularly upset before she fell? Did she say anything that might explain why she was on the balcony?”
“No,” Zane said quietly, his gaze fixed on the table. “She didn’t say much of anything. She wasn’t acting like herself, though.”
“Did Pamela have any enemies?” Matthew asked, his tone pointed. “Anyone who might want to harm her or frame you?”
Zane looked genuinely perplexed. “No. She was… Pamela. Everyone loved her. She didn’t have enemies.”
Matthew exchanged a glance with Alessia, who spoke up. “If Pamela didn’t have enemies, we need to consider if someone was targeting Zane.”
Zane looked at her, startled. “Targeting me? Why would anyone do that?”
“You’re a Kane,” Alessia said bluntly. “You have money, influence, and a reputation. Someone could have wanted to ruin you.”
Matthew nodded in agreement. “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore. And if the cameras being off wasn’t an accident, it adds weight to that theory.”
Zane slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “This feels like a nightmare.”
Alessia leaned closer, her voice steady. “We’re going to figure this out, Zane. You didn’t push Pamela, and we’re going to prove it.”
Matthew closed his notebook, his expression calm but serious. “I’m going to look into the building management, the cameras, and any witnesses. In the meantime, Zane, stay out of trouble and stick to your story. The truth is on our side—but we need to back it up with evidence.”
Zane nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
As they left the office, Alessia squeezed her brother’s arm. “We’ll get through this, Zane. You’re not alone.”
He gave her a faint, grateful smile. “I hope you’re right.”