Chapter 3 - THE SISTERS WHO WERE DECLARED DEAD
According to the corporate records, Sophie Carter and I had died five years earlier.
The date listed was October 12.
I remembered that day.
I had been sitting beside my mother's hospital bed, holding her hand while she slept.
Sophie had been seventeen.
We were very much alive.
Yet someone had submitted documents declaring us dead.
And those documents had allowed our mother's ownership interest to be transferred.
Lucas stared at the papers.
“This was filed through our legal department.”
“Who signed it?”
He turned the page.
A name appeared.
Margaret Voss.
Chief Financial Officer.
Lucas's aunt.
I looked at him.
“Your family did this?”
His jaw tightened.
“I don't know whether she knew the documents were fraudulent. But I'm going to find out.”
My hands trembled.
For five years, I'd worked double shifts.
I'd watched Sophie skip meals to save money.
I'd sold my sewing machine to pay rent.
And somewhere inside a luxury fashion empire, our inheritance had been taken from us.
“Why didn't anyone contact us?” I whispered.
Lucas looked ashamed.
“My mother died six years ago. I took over the business during a period of serious instability.”
He paused.
“I trusted the people already running it.”
I stared at the partnership agreement.
“Your aunt?”
“Yes.”
A knock sounded.
Lucas closed the journal.
“Come in.”
A silver-haired woman entered.
Elegant.
Perfectly dressed.
A diamond necklace rested against her black silk blouse.
She looked at me.
Then at the purple gown.
Her face changed.
“Lucas, what is that woman doing here?”
Lucas didn't move.
“Margaret, this is Elena Carter.”
The color drained from her face.
“Carter?”
“Yes.”
Margaret looked toward the journal.
Her fingers tightened around her handbag.
“I thought you disposed of those old records.”
Lucas's expression hardened.
“Why would I do that?”
Margaret recovered quickly.
“Because they belong in the archives.”
I stepped forward.
“My mother was Rose Carter.”
Margaret stared at me.
For a moment, I saw genuine fear.
Then she smiled.
“How unfortunate. I remember Rose. A talented seamstress.”
Lucas held up the partnership agreement.
“An equal founding partner in the creative business, according to these documents.”
Margaret's smile vanished.
“Those papers are outdated.”
“Then why did you file death certificates for her daughters?”
Silence.
Margaret looked toward the door.
Then she laughed softly.
“You have no idea what you're getting involved in.”
Lucas stood.
“Explain.”
She turned toward me.
“Your mother was offered a chance to walk away. She refused.”
My blood went cold.
“What chance?”
Margaret's expression became hard.
“To keep her daughters safe.”
Lucas stepped forward.
“Margaret, what did you do?”
She reached into her handbag.
For one terrible second, I thought she was reaching for a weapon.
Instead, she withdrew a photograph.
It showed my mother standing outside a hospital.
Beside her was a man I recognized.
My former fashion professor.
Daniel Whitmore.
Margaret placed the photograph on Lucas's desk.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Ask your little seamstress why her professor visited her mother the night she died.”
