Chapter 8 - THE DEAD AERIALIST WHO PLANNED MY FALL
Celeste wanted me injured.
Not killed.
That distinction mattered.
But not enough.
Henry’s second statement explained everything.
Celeste discovered Charles had ordered a lethal sabotage.
She knew simply canceling my performance would make him suspicious.
So she created a different plan.
A controlled failure.
A survivable fall.
Enough damage to end my career.
Enough public evidence to convince Charles I was no longer useful.
My injury became camouflage.
I stared at Rebecca.
“You agreed?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“You let them break my pelvis?”
“We thought he would kill you.”
“You didn’t give me a choice!”
My voice echoed through the room.
Vincent moved slightly.
Then stopped.
Good.
I didn’t need rescuing from my own anger.
Rebecca cried.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I turned away.
For years, I had blamed myself.
Maybe I climbed wrong.
Maybe I failed to inspect properly.
Maybe I had become careless.
Now I knew adults who claimed to love me had deliberately destroyed the life I loved.
For protection.
Again.
I left the mansion.
Vincent didn’t stop me.
My mother didn’t follow.
I took a rideshare back to my tiny apartment.
Sat on the floor.
And cried.
The next morning, my phone contained one message from Vincent.
You don’t owe any of us forgiveness.
That was all.
No flowers.
No car.
No request to return.
I appreciated it more than I wanted to.
Three days later, Detective Bennett called.
She had discovered another problem.
Celeste Vale’s death certificate was questionable.
Private physician.
Closed-casket funeral.
No publicly documented autopsy.
My heart stopped.
“Are you saying she might be alive?”
“We’re checking.”
I laughed bitterly.
Apparently nobody in this story could remain properly dead.
Two days later, they found her.
Alive.
Living under the name Claire Vale in Oregon.
My hands began shaking.
Celeste had survived.
Rebecca knew.
Of course she knew.
I almost refused the meeting.
Then Celeste sent me a handwritten message.
Grace, if you hate me after hearing everything, I’ll accept it. But please let me explain why I disappeared.
I agreed.
We met by video first.
Celeste appeared on screen.
Older.
Hair shorter.
A scar down one side of her neck.
But alive.
“Hi, Grace.”
My throat tightened.
“You let me mourn you.”
“I know.”
“You helped plan my accident.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
“Why should I listen?”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
Good answer.
Then she told me what happened.
Her own fatal-looking fall had also been staged.
She was already cooperating with federal investigators.
But the Whitmores had people everywhere.
So she disappeared.
Then helped Rebecca protect me.
I shook my head.
“You protected me by making me disabled for months.”
“I know.”
No excuse.
Then Celeste said:
“There’s one thing you don’t know.”
I laughed.
“Apparently there are hundreds.”
She almost smiled.
Then became serious.
“Your mother didn’t choose you randomly for Aurelia.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Rebecca knew you would become an aerialist.”
“That makes no sense.”
Celeste looked directly into the camera.
“Grace, your father was one of the greatest aerial performers Aurelia ever had.”
I stopped breathing.
My father had supposedly died before I was born.
May you like
Then Celeste whispered:
“And he is still alive.”
