Chapter 4 - THE SON HE NEEDED FOR CONTROL
Victor had not demanded a son because he wanted to continue his family name.
He wanted voting power.
A male child born to me could have given the Miller family leverage over the Vance trust.
My daughters ruined that plan simply by existing.
I sat on the edge of the bed while Naomi explained.
The amendment was legally questionable.
Potentially fraudulent.
Possibly invalid.
But Victor had apparently believed it could be used.
He hadn't punished me because I gave him girls.
He had punished me because I had failed to produce the key he needed to steal my inheritance.
The thought made me nauseous.
One daughter stirred beside me.
Tiny face.
Closed eyes.
Perfect.
I touched her cheek.
"You're not a curse."
My voice broke.
"Neither of you."
Elias stood near the doorway.
He didn't interrupt.
When I finally looked at him, his eyes were wet.
"My sister would have loved them."
I swallowed.
"You don't know that."
He nodded.
"You're right."
Then added softly:
"But I know Margaret."
That hurt.
Because he had known a version of my mother I never did.
"Tell me about her."
Elias looked surprised.
Then smiled sadly.
"She laughed too loudly."
I almost smiled.
"She did."
"She hated formal dinners."
"So did Mom."
"She loved peach pie."
My eyes filled.
"She made it every summer."
For the first time, I could connect the woman who raised me to the sister Elias lost.
Then Marco entered.
"Boss, we found something about Charles Miller."
Elias looked up.
"What?"
"He wasn't only the trustee."
Marco placed a photograph on the desk.
My mother.
Charles Miller.
And another man.
Older.
Severe.
Elias went still.
"That's my father."
My stomach tightened.
The photograph was taken outside a courthouse.
My mother looked angry.
Charles stood between them.
On the back was a date.
Twenty-one years ago.
The year Elias believed Margaret died.
Naomi examined accompanying records.
"There was a sealed family proceeding."
"What kind?"
She looked toward Elias.
"Petition to remove Margaret from the Vance estate."
His expression hardened.
"My father tried to disinherit her?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Naomi read further.
Then her face changed.
"Because Margaret accused him of laundering money through a children's charity."
Elias closed his eyes.
I stared.
My mother had tried to expose her own father.
That sounded like her.
She was gentle.
But she hated bullies.
Then Naomi opened another sealed document.
A statement from Margaret.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
I read the final paragraph.
If my father succeeds in removing me, my daughter must remain hidden until she is old enough to choose her own life.
My hands shook.
She had hidden me.
Not abandoned me.
Protected me.
Then Elias noticed one line beneath the statement.
A witness signature.
Charles Miller.
My husband's father.
He had helped her hide me.
At least at first.
Then something changed.
Naomi looked through the following records.
Her face went pale.
"Ava."
"What?"
"Your mother didn't die eleven years ago."
I stopped breathing.
"What?"
She turned the page.
A medical record.
Different name.
Same date of birth.
Same photograph.
Margaret Vance had been admitted to a private care facility nine years after I believed she died.
Elias stepped closer.
"Where?"
Naomi swallowed.
"Upstate New York."
My entire body began shaking.
May you like
Then she added the detail that destroyed the room.
"She was admitted by Charles Miller."
