Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER WHO DISAPPEARED
Michael Mercer had been dead for nine years.
At least, that was what Ethan had always told me.
A car accident outside Knoxville.
Rain.
A guardrail.
A funeral with a closed casket.
Ethan never discussed it.
Now I was staring at a corporate filing dated eleven months ago bearing Michael’s full legal name.
MICHAEL JAMES MERCER.
“This is fake,” Ethan said.
Daniel shook his head.
“The identification used to register the company passed verification.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s alive.”
“No.”
Ethan stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“My brother is dead.”
I watched him.
“Did you see his body?”
His eyes snapped toward me.
“Claire.”
“Did you?”
His silence answered.
Ethan walked toward the window.
“My father identified him.”
“You trusted your father?”
His shoulders stiffened.
Ethan’s father, Richard Mercer, had been violent, manipulative, and permanently drunk until the day he died.
Ethan had escaped him at seventeen.
Michael hadn’t.
Daniel quietly said, “There was no DNA confirmation.”
Ethan turned.
“How do you know that?”
“I checked this morning.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
Graham.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
I couldn’t hear the response.
Ethan’s face became expressionless.
That expression frightened boardrooms.
“Tell Vanessa I know.”
Pause.
“No, Graham. Don’t insult me.”
Another pause.
Then Ethan’s eyes shifted toward me.
“What do you want?”
His hand tightened around the phone.
“No.”
I stood.
“What?”
He held up one finger.
“Graham.”
Silence.
Then Ethan said slowly, “If anyone comes near my wife or daughter, I will personally—”
The call ended.
“What did he say?”
Ethan grabbed his coat.
“You’re staying here.”
I laughed once.
“Try again.”
“Claire, this is not about our marriage.”
“No. It’s about my forty-nine percent.”
His head jerked toward me.
“You know.”
“Daniel told me.”
Something complicated crossed Ethan’s face.
Guilt.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was going to.”
“When? Lily’s graduation?”
“Your father asked me to wait.”
Daniel interrupted.
“That is not entirely accurate.”
Ethan turned.
Daniel’s voice sharpened.
“Robert Bennett asked you to protect the trust from outside creditors. He never asked you to conceal it from Claire indefinitely.”
I stared at my husband.
Another lie.
Ethan looked ashamed.
“I was afraid you’d think everything I built belonged to your father.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“Then why hide it?”
“Because I was twenty-nine, broke, arrogant, and terrified that the woman I loved would realize her father had saved me.”
The answer hurt because it sounded true.
Then the penthouse intercom buzzed.
Security.
Daniel answered.
His expression darkened.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“There’s a delivery downstairs.”
“For who?”
“You.”
No sender.
Inside the envelope was a photograph.
Ethan and Michael.
Teenagers.
Standing beside a rusted pickup truck.
On the back, someone had written:
ASK ETHAN WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT MICHAEL DIED.
Below it was a phone number.
May you like
And beneath the number were five words.
HE LET HIS BROTHER BURN.
