Chapter 5 - WHY EMMA CALLED HER AUNT
Mara Carter did not run when I confronted her.
That told me more than panic would have.
We met in the guest cottage before sunrise.
Emma slept upstairs.
Mara stood beside the fireplace with both hands wrapped around a mug she had forgotten to drink from.
“Who is Noah?”
She looked at me for a long time.
Then:
“A child who deserves to stay alive.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“It was enough for your father.”
I put the DNA report on the table.
Her shoulders dropped.
“You found Black Crown.”
“Yes.”
Mara sat.
“Noah is Marco’s son.”
“Where is Elena?”
Mara looked toward the stairs.
“Dead.”
Vivien had told me her sister died from an overdose nine years ago.
Another lie.
“Elena died four years ago,” Mara continued. “Cancer.”
“Where?”
“Michigan.”
“Did Marco know about Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know Elena survived his disappearance?”
Mara’s face changed.
“Marco did not die in that boat.”
I had expected the sentence.
It still hit like a fist.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did my father?”
“For a while.”
According to Mara, Marco staged his death after discovering someone inside Moretti Holdings had been laundering money through legitimate real-estate subsidiaries and using family accounts to fund outside crews.
He believed Victor was involved.
Elena and Noah were moved under false identities.
My father arranged protection.
Mara was originally Elena’s closest friend.
After Elena became ill, she took responsibility for Noah.
“What about Emma?”
“My daughter.”
“And why does she call Vivien Aunt?”
Mara swallowed.
“Because Vivien is Noah’s aunt. Emma hears him call her that.”
The room tightened around me.
“Vivien has been seeing Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Here?”
“Sometimes.”
“Without telling me.”
Mara nodded.
“Your father’s instructions were clear. Nobody could know Noah was connected to Ravenwood until the succession records were safe.”
“Then why bring him near me at all?”
“Because your father believed you would eventually need to know him before you learned who he was.”
That sounded like my father.
Manipulative even when trying to protect people.
I asked where Noah was now.
Mara hesitated.
Then:
“At school.”
I looked at the clock.
Too early.
“What school?”
She realized her mistake.
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed.
One message.
Her face drained.
She turned the screen toward me.
A photograph of an empty bedroom.
Noah’s bedroom.
Beneath it:
STOP DIGGING OR THE BOY DISAPPEARS FOR REAL.
Then another message arrived.
May you like
A photograph of my wedding invitation.
Across Vivien’s name, someone had drawn a black crown.
