Chapter 10 - THE BLANKET WITH HER NAME|
I had never told anyone outside our closest family that we intended to name our daughter Hope.
Clara chose the name during our first ultrasound appointment.
She had cried when the technician turned the screen toward us.
Later, sitting in the parking lot, she placed my hand over her stomach and whispered, “Hope Vale.”
I had repeated the name aloud because hearing it made everything feel real.
We hadn't bought a crib yet.
We hadn't painted the nursery.
But Clara had purchased one small pink blanket and asked a local shop to embroider our daughter's name across the corner.
That blanket had disappeared after the attack.
Now Victoria Price was holding it in a recording made outside Briar Haven.
I stared at the image until Naomi lowered the tablet.
“How did she get it?”
“We don't know.”
“Was Clara's blanket recovered from the estate?”
“No.”
My chest tightened.
“Then Victoria may have taken it from her.”
Naomi remained silent.
I asked her to send the footage to Detective Whitcomb.
Then I returned to the hospital.
Clara was sitting slightly upright, supported by pillows, when I entered.
She looked exhausted, but her eyes followed me immediately.
“Adrian?”
I forced myself to speak gently.
“Do you remember the blanket we bought for Hope?”
Her expression softened.
“The one with her name?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked toward the window.
“I took it to the estate.”
I sat beside her.
“Why?”
“I wanted to show Mom.”
The answer nearly brought me to my knees.
She had gone to meet the family that had hurt her because she believed she might finally see her mother again.
She had brought our daughter's blanket as a gift.
Clara continued.
“Grant said Mom would be there.”
I took her hand.
“But she wasn't.”
Clara shook her head.
“Victoria took the blanket out of my bag.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me Dad didn't deserve another reminder of what he couldn't control.”
I felt anger rise.
Clara's eyes filled.
“I asked her to give it back.”
I squeezed her fingers.
“She wouldn't.”
Then Clara looked directly at me.
“Please find it.”
I wanted to promise that I would.
But I had made too many promises to myself that I couldn't keep.
So I said the only thing I knew was true.
“I'll do everything I legally can to bring Hope's blanket home.”
That evening, Detective Whitcomb called.
Victoria Price had contacted authorities through an attorney.
She was willing to discuss Clara's assault, the Mercer family's financial operations, and Evelyn's confinement.
But she wanted protection.
And she wanted something else.
She wanted to speak to me.
Whitcomb advised that any meeting should happen with legal counsel present and with investigators managing the interview.
I agreed.
The following morning, Victoria sat across from me in a secured interview room.
She was a composed woman in her late forties, wearing a plain cream sweater.
There was nothing extraordinary about her appearance.
That disturbed me.
I had spent days imagining someone monstrous.
Instead, I was looking at a person who might have passed me in a grocery store without attracting a second glance.
Victoria placed a sealed evidence bag on the table.
Inside was Hope's blanket.
My vision blurred.
“Where did you get that?”
“Silas gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to destroy it.”
My hands curled beneath the table.
“Why didn't you?”
Victoria's expression changed.
“Because I knew what he was planning.”
She swallowed.
“And because I couldn't bear to do one more terrible thing for that family.”
I stared at her.
“Were you there when they attacked my wife?”
“Yes.”
“Did you help them?”
She lowered her eyes.
“I helped arrange the meeting.”
The room went silent.
“I told Clara her mother would be there.”
I wanted to stand.
I wanted to shout.
Instead, I listened because the truth mattered more than my anger.
Victoria began to cry.
“Silas promised they were only going to frighten her.”
I said nothing.
“Then Grant lost control.”
“Who else was involved?”
She looked toward Detective Whitcomb.
“Several of them.”
“Did Silas stop it?”
Victoria shook her head.
“No.”
I felt something inside me turn cold.
“Did he know Clara was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
Victoria reached into a folder and produced a copy of a written instruction she claimed Silas had authorized.
Whitcomb immediately took custody of the document.
Victoria looked at me through tears.
“He knew about the baby, Adrian.”
May you like
Her voice broke.
“And he ordered them to make sure Clara never challenged him again.”
