Chapter 8 - THERE WAS A THIRD SULLIVAN DAUGHTER
Caroline laughed when Maeve told her.
Not because it was funny.
Because disbelief had nowhere else to go.
“A secret sister?”
Maeve pushed the ledger toward her.
“Charlotte.”
Richard refused to answer calls.
Police and financial investigators were already involved.
He could no longer control access.
So Maeve went through old family records.
Birth certificate.
Charlotte Elizabeth Sullivan.
Born premature.
Congenital heart defect.
Official death certificate twelve days later.
But hospital billing continued under an anonymous pediatric trust for six months.
Then private-care payments.
Thirty-two years.
Charlotte was alive.
Why hide her?
Richard finally agreed to speak through counsel.
He looked exhausted.
“Your mother wanted her hidden.”
Maeve stared.
“Don’t blame Mom.”
“I’m not.”
Charlotte was born with serious developmental complications.
Richard’s wealthy mother considered a disabled child a “family embarrassment.”
She threatened to cut him off financially.
Elizabeth refused to surrender Charlotte.
So they told the family she died and placed her with Elizabeth’s aunt in Michigan.
Years later, Richard inherited.
But the lie stayed.
“Why didn’t you bring her home?”
His answer was devastatingly simple.
“Because by then I was ashamed.”
Maeve looked at him.
Not of Charlotte.
Of himself.
He continued paying for her care secretly.
Elizabeth visited.
Richard rarely did.
After Elizabeth became institutionalized, Charlotte lost her main family connection.
“Where is she?”
A residential community near Ann Arbor.
Maeve and Caroline went together.
No Leo.
No Richard.
Just sisters.
Charlotte was thirty-two.
Small.
Dark-haired.
Developmentally disabled.
She loved puzzles and pressed flowers.
When Maeve entered, Charlotte looked up.
Then smiled.
“Mimi?”
Maeve stopped.
“My name is Maeve.”
Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.
“Mimi.”
A caregiver explained Elizabeth had shown her photographs.
Maeve was “Mimi.”
Caroline stood behind her.
Charlotte looked.
Her smile changed.
“Carrie.”
Caroline covered her mouth.
Their mother had kept them alive in Charlotte’s memory even while the family erased Charlotte from theirs.
They spent three hours together.
No business.
No inheritance.
Just sisters.
On the drive home, Caroline cried.
“I thought I was the favorite.”
Maeve looked out the window.
“You were.”
“That doesn’t feel like winning anymore.”
It was the first truly honest thing Caroline had said.
Then Sofia called.
The green ledger contained transfers to Charlotte’s trust.
Most legitimate.
But one recent withdrawal:
$1.1 million.
Approved eleven months earlier.
Same month Vincent removed Elizabeth from Lakeview.
Destination:
Bellweather Holdings.
Someone had stolen from Charlotte too.
Authorized signature:
Caroline Sullivan.
Caroline nearly drove off the road.
“I did not sign that.”
This time, Maeve believed her immediately.
Someone had forged Caroline’s signature just as Richard had manipulated Maeve’s ownership.
The family had spent so long assuming Caroline was favored that nobody noticed she was also being used.
Then Leo called separately.
His father’s half of the green ledger had been found.
Inside his father’s old cigar humidor.
The two ledgers matched.
But Antonio Rossi had written one additional note before his death:
VINCENT IS NOT THE TOP.
ASK RICHARD WHO HE REPORTS TO.
May you like
Richard Sullivan had not been running the scheme.
Someone else had been above both families.
