Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The photograph was old.
Almost twenty years old.
My father stood beside Damon.
Both were younger.
Behind them was a woman I had never seen.
She had dark hair.
Green eyes.
And the same small scar beneath her left eyebrow that I had.
I stared at it.
“Who is she?”
Damon didn't answer.
“Damon.”
“She was your father's sister.”
I frowned.
“My aunt?”
“Yes.”
“My father always told me he was an only child.”
“He lied.”
“Why?”
“Because she disappeared.”
I looked closer.
“What was her name?”
“Isabelle.”
Something about the name felt familiar.
Then my mother walked into the room.
She saw the photograph.
Her face drained of color.
“Where did you get that?”
I turned.
“You know her.”
My mother didn't answer.
“Mom.”
She sat down.
“Isabelle wasn't your aunt.”
I frowned.
“She was your father's first love.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“They met before your father met me.”
“Then why did he hide her?”
“Because she knew the truth about the Sterling family.”
“What truth?”
My mother looked at Damon.
Damon nodded.
She whispered:
“Julian's father killed her.”
The room went silent.
I couldn't breathe.
“She's dead?”
“No.”
My mother shook her head.
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“Twenty-two years ago.”
“Where?”
“We never found her.”
Damon stepped forward.
“Until last week.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He handed me another photograph.
It showed a woman standing outside a small farmhouse in Vermont.
Older.
Gray at her temples.
But unmistakable.
Isabelle.
Alive.
My hands trembled.
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because we needed to know whether she was being watched.”
My mother stood.
“She contacted your father before he died.”
I looked at her.
“What did she tell him?”
“That the Sterling family had a ledger.”
“What kind of ledger?”
“Every bribe.”
“Every murder.”
“Every account.”
“Every politician.”
My heart pounded.
“And my father had a copy?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
My mother looked at Damon.
Damon said:
“Inside the Voss trust.”
I suddenly understood.
The eighty-four million dollars wasn't just money.
It was protection.
Evidence.
Leverage.
My father had hidden the ledger inside the inheritance because he knew the Sterling family would never stop searching for it.
I sat down.
“That's why they need me.”
“Yes.”
“That's why they want Lily.”
“Yes.”
“Because they think I know where it is.”
Damon nodded.
I looked at my daughter.
Then at the photograph.
“Take me to Isabelle.”
We drove north before sunrise.
Snow covered the highway.
Damon drove himself.
For the first time, we were alone.
“Damon?”
“Yes?”
“Did you know my father loved Isabelle?”
“Yes.”
“Did my mother know?”
“Yes.”
“Did my father love my mother?”
He was silent.
Finally:
“In his own way.”
I looked out the window.
“That's a terrible answer.”
“It's an honest one.”
After several hours, we reached the farmhouse.
A woman opened the door.
She looked at me.
And immediately began crying.
“Clara.”
I froze.
“You know me?”
She nodded.
“I held you the day you were born.”
My heart stopped.
She stepped forward.
Then whispered:
“Your father wasn't killed because of the money.”
I stared at her.
“He was killed because he discovered who your real enemy was.”
“Who?”
She looked over my shoulder.
Her face suddenly filled with fear.
“Your mother.”
I turned.
My mother wasn't there.
Only Damon.
I looked back at Isabelle.
“What do you mean?”
She closed the door.
Then whispered:
“Your mother was the one who gave the Sterling family your father's location.”
I couldn't move.
The woman who had come to the hospital.
The woman who had cried.
The woman who claimed she wanted to protect me.
May you like
Had betrayed my father.
And perhaps she had been waiting twenty-two years to betray me too.
