Chapter 5 - THE NINTH CHILD|
Clara had eight brothers.
That was the family history Silas Mercer had repeated at charity dinners, political fundraisers, and interviews for thirty years.
Eight sons and one daughter.
Nine children raised beneath the roof of an American dynasty.
Apparently, even that story was a lie.
I waited until Clara's nurse confirmed she could speak for a few more minutes.
Then I pulled my chair closer and asked the question slowly.
“Who is your sister?”
Clara swallowed.
“Her name is Elise.”
I had never heard the name.
“She's older than me.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
The answer frightened her more than I expected.
Clara explained that the letter had arrived without a return address.
Inside were copies of old family photographs, a document bearing Evelyn's signature, and a message written in handwriting Clara recognized from her mother's birthday cards.
The message claimed Silas had hidden Evelyn at Briar Haven after she threatened to expose fraudulent business transactions.
It also said Elise had spent years gathering information about the Mercer family.
I asked Clara whether she had shown anyone the letter.
She shook her head.
“I was afraid Dad was testing me.”
“Testing you?”
“He used to do that when I was little.”
Her voice was barely audible.
“He'd tell us a secret and wait to see who repeated it.”
I said nothing.
“When someone told the truth, he'd punish them for betraying the family.”
I felt an anger so deep that it was almost quiet.
Clara looked toward the ceiling.
“Grant called me yesterday and said he had evidence that the letter was fake.”
“Where did he want to meet?”
“The old estate.”
“Why did you go?”
“Because he said Elise would be there.”
She began to tremble.
I reached for her hand.
“You don't need to tell me everything today.”
“I remember Grant closing the door.”
Her eyes filled again.
“I remember Dad asking where I'd hidden the documents.”
I leaned forward.
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I told him I was finished being afraid.”
Those words nearly broke me.
Clara had said something similar on our wedding day when she chose to walk down the aisle alone rather than let Silas pretend he supported our marriage.
She had always possessed courage that her family could neither understand nor control.
“What happened next?” I asked.
Her face tightened.
“Mason grabbed my arm.”
I waited, fighting the urge to demand more.
“Then Grant said they should make sure I couldn't testify.”
The room seemed to shrink around us.
Clara closed her eyes.
“I don't remember everything after that.”
I kissed her hand.
“You've told me enough.”
But she wasn't finished.
“Adrian, the documents weren't in my purse.”
“Where were they?”
“I gave them to someone before I went to the estate.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
Then she whispered a name.
“Your mother.”
I stared at her.
My mother, Margaret Vale, had retired from public life years earlier.
She lived in a quiet house overlooking the Atlantic, where she spent her mornings reading and her afternoons tending roses.
I spoke to her every Sunday.
She had never mentioned receiving anything from Clara.
“Why would you give the documents to Mom?”
“Because she promised to keep them safe.”
A cold sensation moved through my chest.
My mother had been unusually quiet during our last conversation.
She had asked whether Clara and I had been receiving strange calls.
At the time, I thought she was being protective.
Now I understood there was another possibility.
I stepped into the hallway and called her.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Then Naomi appeared with her phone pressed to her ear.
Her expression told me the news before she spoke.
“Adrian, we have a security alert from your mother's property.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What happened?”
“The gate cameras went offline twenty minutes ago.”
May you like
She paused.
“And the housekeeper says Margaret is missing.”
