Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO STOLE HER CHILDHOOD
Richard Lang wasn't simply the floor manager at Lucien.
Twenty years earlier, he'd worked as a physician at Northbridge Biomedical's private clinic.
Clara stared at the personnel record.
It contained his photograph.
Younger.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
The same cold eyes.
The same tight smile.
The same man who'd spent three months humiliating her over small mistakes at work.
"Why would a doctor become a restaurant manager?" she whispered.
Casey sat beside her.
"That's what investigators are trying to establish."
The police had begun examining the suspected poisoning attempt.
Preliminary testing had identified an unauthorized substance in Casey's glass.
Anthony Russo and Richard Lang were being investigated for their involvement.
But the old medical records opened an entirely different case.
Northbridge Biomedical had closed years earlier.
Several executives retired.
Others disappeared.
And the clinic where Isabella gave birth had been demolished.
Clara looked toward Casey.
"Richard knew who I was."
He nodded.
"Possibly from the moment you applied."
Her stomach tightened.
She remembered her interview.
Richard had asked strange questions.
Her mother's maiden name.
Where she'd grown up.
Whether she had relatives in Chicago.
She thought he was checking references.
Now she wondered whether he was confirming her identity.
"He hired me because of my mother."
Casey looked grim.
"We don't know yet."
Clara laughed bitterly.
"You're very careful with your words."
He almost smiled.
"Somebody should be."
For the first time in days, she smiled back.
Then her expression darkened.
"Why did they want to poison you?"
Casey leaned back.
"Anthony had access to my schedule."
"And Richard knew I'd be serving Table Four."
"Yes."
Clara felt cold.
"What if I was supposed to see it?"
Casey studied her.
"Explain."
"What if they wanted me close to you?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Clara continued.
"Richard assigned me to Table Four even though I wasn't scheduled for the private section."
Casey's expression sharpened.
"That's important."
"And he told me not to look at anyone."
She swallowed.
"Maybe he knew I'd recognize something."
Casey looked toward the locket.
Then toward the old hospital records.
For a moment, he seemed to connect pieces she'd barely begun to understand.
"Clara, did your mother leave you any documents?"
"Just bills. Medical paperwork. Old photographs."
"Anything connected to Northbridge?"
She thought carefully.
Then remembered the cedar chest.
There was a false wooden bottom.
She'd discovered it as a child while searching for Christmas decorations.
Nora had told her never to remove it.
"Maybe."
That evening, Clara returned to her apartment with her attorney and a trusted friend.
She opened the chest.
Removed the blankets.
Lifted the false panel.
Beneath it lay a small metal box.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
A cassette recording.
And a sealed envelope addressed to Clara.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
My darling girl,
If you're reading this, then the people I've spent twenty years avoiding have finally found you.
Tears filled her eyes.
She continued.
I did not give birth to you.
But I loved you from the moment I first held you.
Clara began crying.
Then she reached the next paragraph.
Your mother Isabella is alive.
Her heart stopped.
And the man who has kept her hidden is the same man everyone calls Casey Vane's father.
Clara stared at the letter.
Casey's father.
Anthony Vane.
May you like
A man who had supposedly died twelve years earlier.
And according to Nora, he was still alive.
