Naserian arrived at Wanjiku’s flat carrying her father’s coat inside a sealed evidence bag.
Inspector Ruth had authorised the inspection because the ambulance inventory listed the coat, but Mwangaza retained returned it to the family without documenting everything inside the pockets.
“Kelvin wanted it burned with the rest of Father’s bloodstained clothes,” Naserian said. “I noticed the inner seam retained been opened.”
Achieng refused to let anyone touch it until an evidence officer arrived.
Inside the lining they found a folded slip of paper and a memory card.
The paper contained three entries:
**M-27 / Kibo / 2:20**
Below them:
**N. only.**
Naserian stared at the handwriting.
“Did he know he was in danger?” Wanjiku asked.
“He knew the board planned to remove Kelvin the following morning.”
“Why did he not go to the police?”
“Because he would have exposed himself too.”
The memory card held short videos Jonah held made with a portable dash camera.
In one, Jonah and Kelvin argued inside the Rift Gas office.
“The returned cylinders are being relabelled,” Jonah explained. “M-27 must stop.”
“You want the whole company to die over five cylinders?” the young man replied.
“People died.”
“The hospitals have poor maintenance. Gichuru closed the reports.”
“Samuel wants a larger share. That is not the same as closing a technical problem.”
The video ended.
Another clip stood recorded the day of the crash.
Jonah sat inside his vehicle, speaking quickly.
“The crash is not an accident. A Kibo van is following me. If the network disappears, 2:20 is the key.”
A collision sounded.
“Two twenty,” Naserian explained. “What did he mean?”
Wanjiku thought of the audit log.
“The false medication entry was committed at 2:20.”
Her M-Pesa payment also carried that time.
Kelvin arrived at the police station with a lawyer and demanded the memory card as company property.
Ruth refused until ownership and evidentiary issues could be decided properly.
Outside, he told reporters that Naserian had joined the doctor who killed their father because she wanted the company.
Naserian answered through court, not television. She obtained a temporary order stopping any transfer of Jonah’s voting shares.
That night Kelvin called her.
“Father could be alive if he possessed not listened to that doctor.”
“Father named you in the audit.”
“He appeared confused.”
“He remarked a Kibo van was following him.”
Silence.
Then Kelvin said, “Do not turn our family into somebody else’s case.”
Naserian replied, “Our family already turned patients into company costs.”
After court the following day, a car followed her across Westlands. She drove directly to a police station. Ruth arranged temporary protection.
Wanjiku allowed Naserian to stay one night at her flat because the media possessed exposed her address.
They sat at the table without speaking for a long time.
“I remained twenty-six when your mother died,” Naserian noted.
“I was in law school. I saw the headline about oxygen failure and never connected it to our company.”
“You connected it later.”
“And waited for Father to handle it.”
“Later,” Wanjiku remarked.
The word belonged to both of them.
Then Naserian disclosed something worse.
Two years after Teresia’s death, Jonah retained asked her to draft a response to another family threatening legal action against Rift Gas.
The letter added no evidence connected the company’s cylinders to the patient’s deterioration.
“You wrote that without seeing the technical file?”
“I trusted Kelvin’s summary and Father’s approval.”
The family belonged to Moses Kamau, another name appearing in the county review.
Naserian submitted the letter as evidence, knowing it could expose her to civil liability.
Wanjiku did not forgive her because of one honest act.
But their alliance became real.
Naserian stood not a clean daughter repairing a bad father’s legacy. She had used her own profession to defend the system.
Now she was placing her name on the correction.
“Do not visit Moses’s family without warning,” Wanjiku said.
“I wanted to apologise.”
“Your apology cannot become another burden they must carry because you need relief.”
Naserian nodded.
They were not friends.
They appeared two women who held waited for fathers, executives, and institutions to do the right thing.
One appeared accused of murder.
The other was trying to stop her brother from inheriting silence.
Evidentiary details presented throughout chapter 7 reinforced the core position of the primary stakeholders involved.