Chapter 7 - THE SISTER WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
I spent twenty-four years believing I was Arthur Bennett's only child.
Now a trust document claimed half of his most valuable remaining asset belonged to a woman named Emily Bennett.
I stared at Katherine.
"That can't be right."
She studied the document.
"Did your father ever mention another daughter?"
"No."
"Could Emily be a relative?"
"Not that I know of."
Roman remained quiet.
I turned toward him.
"Do you know something?"
He hesitated.
"Only that your father was involved in a confidential guardianship arrangement years ago."
My chest tightened.
"What arrangement?"
"I don't have the details."
I looked down at the document.
Emily Bennett.
The name felt unfamiliar.
Yet something about it tugged at an old memory.
When I was eight, my father occasionally visited a children's home outside Chicago.
He brought toys.
Books.
Winter coats.
Sometimes I went with him.
There had been a little girl with dark curls.
She liked drawing houses.
She always asked whether the houses had gardens.
I remembered giving her a yellow crayon.
I looked up.
"Katherine, can we find Emily?"
"Yes."
Two days later, our investigator located her.
Emily Bennett was twenty-six.
She worked as an elementary school art teacher in Milwaukee.
She rented a small apartment.
Drove an old Toyota.
And had no apparent connection to Preston Hayes.
Katherine arranged a video call.
When Emily appeared on the screen, my heart stopped.
Dark curls.
Brown eyes.
A familiar shy smile.
The girl with the yellow crayon.
She looked at me uncertainly.
"Are you Sloan?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
She smiled nervously.
"I remember you."
My throat tightened.
"You do?"
"You gave me a yellow crayon when we were little."
Tears filled my eyes.
"I remember."
Emily looked down.
"I kept it for years."
I swallowed.
"Emily, I need to ask you something."
"Okay."
"Was Arthur Bennett your father?"
She hesitated.
"He was the closest thing I ever had to one."
My chest tightened.
"What do you mean?"
"He became my legal guardian after my mother died."
I stared.
"My father never told me."
Emily's expression softened.
"He said you were dealing with your mother's illness and didn't want to overwhelm you."
I closed my eyes.
Mom had died when I was nine.
Dad had been trying to protect two grieving children.
Emily continued.
"He helped me finish school. Paid for my college tuition. But I wasn't his biological daughter."
Katherine leaned forward.
"Did Arthur ever discuss the Riverside trust with you?"
Emily looked surprised.
"No."
"Did you sign any documents concerning the property?"
"Never."
I felt relief.
Then confusion.
"Then why are you listed as a beneficiary?"
Emily shook her head.
"I don't know."
Katherine examined the document again.
Then frowned.
"Sloan, the beneficiary designation may have been altered."
My stomach tightened.
"By whom?"
She compared the signature dates.
"That requires further investigation."
Emily suddenly looked frightened.
"Wait."
We all turned toward her.
She swallowed.
"A man came to see me last month."
"What man?" I asked.
"He said he worked for a company that owned property in Chicago."
My pulse quickened.
"Did he give you his name?"
She nodded.
"Preston Hayes."
My blood turned cold.
"What did he want?"
Emily's voice trembled.
"He offered me two million dollars to sign away my rights to a trust."
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Did you sign?"
"No."
Relief flooded me.
Then Emily said something that made my heart stop.
"He told me if I refused, he'd make sure the truth about Arthur Bennett's death became public."
I stared at her.
"My father's death?"
Emily nodded.
"That's what he said."
I swallowed.
"Emily, my father isn't dead."
She went completely still.
"What?"
"He's alive. He had a stroke."
Emily's eyes widened.
May you like
Then she whispered the terrible secret Preston had given her.
"He told me Arthur Bennett died three years ago—and the man in the care facility was an impostor."
