Chapter 6 - The Name Ethan Stole
The sentence looked impossible.
Ethan Morgan is not Arthur’s son.
I read it four times.
“Then who is he?”
Mason already had investigators working on it.
By afternoon, they had obtained Ethan’s original birth certificate.
His name was not Ethan Morgan.
It was Ethan Cole.
His mother was Margaret Cole.
Father listed as unknown.
Arthur Morgan had adopted Ethan when he was six.
“So Margaret married Arthur?”
“No.”
Mason looked troubled.
“She never married him.”
Official records showed Margaret had worked for Arthur for almost twenty years.
House manager.
Bookkeeper.
Personal assistant.
Then suddenly, Arthur had adopted her child.
No explanation.
No public relationship.
Nothing.
“Why give Ethan his name?”
“Because Arthur needed an heir.”
An heir he could control.
Arthur had no biological children.
He trained Ethan from childhood to protect his finances.
His secrets.
His criminal empire.
Then Emily entered Ethan’s life with her family trust.
Margaret saw a second fortune within reach.
Everything became connected.
My father.
Emily.
Rebecca.
Me.
But there was still one unanswered question.
Who had sent the message telling someone to bring me?
Arthur was dead.
Margaret was in custody.
Ethan was under arrest.
So who remained?
The answer came from Rebecca.
She was found alive that evening.
A state trooper discovered her hiding inside an abandoned roadside motel.
She was dehydrated, bruised, terrified, but alive.
Before agreeing to speak, she demanded to see me.
The hospital staff wheeled my bed into a secured conference room.
Rebecca looked at my cast and began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“You helped him.”
“I thought I was gathering evidence.”
“For whom?”
She swallowed.
“For Emily.”
I stared.
“Emily is dead.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“No.”
Every person in the room froze.
“I saw her three weeks ago.”
Mason leaned forward.
“Where?”
Rebecca’s eyes moved toward me.
“She’s been hiding.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“But whose body was buried?”
Rebecca whispered the answer.
“Her sister’s.”
I felt sick.
Emily had a sister?
Rebecca nodded.
“An identical twin.”
Then she said the name.
“Sophie Carter.”
Carter.
My maiden name.
And suddenly, the biggest secret wasn’t that Emily might be alive.
It was that Emily’s mother and my father had shared the same last name because they were brother and sister.
May you like
Emily Morgan wasn’t a stranger.
She was my cousin.
