Chapter 2 - THE LETTER THAT STOLE SEVEN YEARS
My mother stopped walking.
That was all I needed to see.
“Mom?”
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Vincent’s attention fixed on her.
“You forged Claire’s letter.”
My father grabbed her arm.
“Not here.”
Vincent’s security men immediately moved toward them.
I stepped forward.
“What letter?”
Vincent handed it to me.
The paper was old.
The handwriting looked almost exactly like mine.
Almost.
Vincent,
Emily is not your daughter. I made mistakes during our marriage, and I won’t allow you to destroy her life because of them. Do not contact us. Do not search for us. I want nothing from you.
Claire.
My hands shook.
“You believed this?”
Vincent’s face tightened.
“For a while.”
“For a while?”
“Your lawyer confirmed you wanted no contact.”
“Madison confirmed I wanted no direct contact while the divorce was being finalized. That is not the same thing as telling you Emily wasn’t yours.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
The word came out like a knife.
He accepted it.
“Yes. Now.”
Emily stood quietly beside me.
Too quietly.
I folded the letter and handed it back.
“Who forged it?”
Vincent looked at my mother.
My father stepped between them.
“That’s enough.”
“No,” I said.
His eyes turned toward me.
“No, Dad. It isn’t.”
My mother’s face crumpled.
“Claire, we were trying to protect everyone.”
I laughed.
It came out broken.
“Protect everyone?”
“Sophia had a son.”
“So my daughter deserved to lose her father?”
“Vincent needed an heir.”
Emily looked confused.
“What’s an heir?”
I closed my eyes.
Vincent answered before I could.
“An old-fashioned excuse adults use when they make selfish decisions.”
I looked at him sharply.
At least he had the decency to understand that now.
My mother began crying.
“Sophia was fragile after Lucas was born.”
“And I wasn’t?”
She looked away.
There it was.
Even seven years later.
Sophia mattered more.
My father spoke.
“You had your inheritance. You were independent.”
“So you thought I could survive being abandoned?”
“You always survived everything.”
I stared at him.
“That was never permission to hurt me.”
Silence.
Emily moved closer to my side.
Vincent’s face became dangerous.
“Who gave you Claire’s signature?”
My mother shook her head.
“I copied it.”
“From where?”
“Old documents.”
“Why?”
“To make you stop searching.”
I looked at Vincent.
“You searched?”
He did not answer immediately.
My heart twisted.
“For how long?”
“Six months.”
That startled me.
“Six months?”
“I had investigators looking in Boston, New York, Connecticut.”
“You knew I went to Boston.”
“Your legal documents listed a private mailbox.”
Madison had insisted on protecting my home address.
Vincent continued.
“Then your mother brought me the letter.”
I turned slowly toward her.
“You gave it to him?”
She started crying harder.
“I thought it would let everyone move forward.”
Everyone.
Meaning Sophia.
Meaning Lucas.
Never me.
Vincent looked toward Sophia.
“You knew about the letter?”
“No.”
Her answer came too fast.
He noticed.
“So did I.”
Sophia’s face tightened.
“Vincent, this is ridiculous.”
He stepped closer.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
He stared at her.
Seven years ago, that woman had possessed absolute power over him.
Now something had changed.
Maybe time.
Maybe guilt.
Maybe Emily.
Sophia looked toward my mother.
My mother looked away.
That tiny exchange told me everything.
“You did,” I whispered.
Sophia snapped:
“I knew they wanted you gone.”
Emily flinched.
Vincent’s voice dropped.
“Careful.”
Sophia looked at him.
“For seven years, I raised your son.”
“And for seven years, Claire raised my daughter alone.”
Sophia went silent.
I almost hated him for saying it because some wounded part of me wanted those words seven years earlier.
I turned toward Emily.
“We’re leaving.”
This time, nobody stopped us.
Until Madison called.
I answered while walking toward the parking garage.
“Tell me you’re watching the livestream.”
“I’m watching.”
“You saw everything?”
“Yes.”
Her voice changed.
“Claire, there’s something you need to know.”
“What?”
“I pulled your old divorce file after you called me yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Because the custody records looked strange.”
I stopped walking.
Vincent was twenty feet behind us.
Madison continued.
“The paternity acknowledgment Vincent signed for Emily was removed from the final court file.”
My stomach dropped.
“Removed?”
“Someone replaced it.”
“With what?”
“A document claiming Vincent legally denied paternity.”
I turned toward him.
He looked confused.
Madison spoke again.
“And Claire?”
May you like
“Yes?”
“The notarization belongs to your father.”
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