Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO HAD BEEN WATCHING MY SONS
Gabriel didn't sleep.
Neither did I.
At four in the morning, I found him sitting alone in his father's old study.
No jacket.
Shirt sleeves rolled up.
A glass of whiskey untouched beside his hand.
He was staring at the photograph of Daniel.
“You should sleep,” I said.
He looked up.
“You should too.”
“I have triplets.”
He almost smiled.
“Fair.”
I entered.
The study hadn't changed.
Dark wood.
Old books.
Heavy curtains.
I remembered waiting here years ago while Gabriel took phone calls that seemed more important than dinner.
Maybe that had been part of why our marriage broke.
Not Serena.
Not only Serena.
Silence.
Distance.
Things we never said.
I sat across from him.
“Tell me about Daniel.”
Gabriel stared at the photograph.
“He was nine years older.”
“Close?”
“He raised me more than my father did.”
That surprised me.
“What happened?”
“Daniel hated the business. Wanted out.”
“And Victor?”
“Didn't allow people to leave.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“When Daniel disappeared, my father said he stole from the family.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I was twenty-one.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“No.”
I remembered why I'd loved him.
Even when the truth made him look bad, Gabriel rarely lied once cornered.
“He left you something?”
“A letter.”
“What did it say?”
“That if I ever had children, I needed to keep them away from our father.”
My pulse quickened.
“You never told me that.”
“I never expected to have children.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“My father used family as leverage.”
“And you didn't want anyone used against you.”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt in ways I didn't expect.
“You married me.”
“I loved you.”
Past tense.
My heart tightened.
Then he corrected himself.
“I love you.”
I stopped breathing.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“Wrong time.”
“Very.”
“I know.”
I stood.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say things because you're emotional about the boys.”
His gaze sharpened.
“I am many things, Claire. Confused isn't one of them.”
“Five years ago, you divorced me.”
“Yes.”
“For Serena.”
“No.”
I stared.
He continued.
“I divorced you because someone threatened to kill you.”
My chest went cold.
“What?”
Gabriel stood.
“My father was supposedly dead. Daniel was gone. But someone started sending photographs.”
“What photographs?”
“You leaving the grocery store. Sleeping beside the pool. Driving.”
I felt sick.
“You never told me.”
“I thought if I cut you loose, you'd be safe.”
“By destroying our marriage?”
“Yes.”
“That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”
His eyes flashed.
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You could have trusted me.”
“I know.”
The admission stopped me.
His voice softened.
“I know that now.”
I looked away.
Five years of anger suddenly had a new shape.
Not gone.
Just different.
“You used Serena.”
“No.”
“She kissed you.”
“She agreed to help create the appearance that I'd moved on.”
My stomach dropped.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then the office…”
“She went too far.”
Gabriel's expression hardened.
“She kissed me because she knew you were coming.”
“And you didn't know?”
“No.”
I thought of Serena's fear at the gala.
“She wanted me to leave you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor threatened someone she loved.”
Silence.
Every villain in my memory was becoming more complicated.
A phone vibrated.
Gabriel answered.
Adrian.
“What?”
He listened.
His expression changed.
“Send it.”
A video arrived.
Security footage from the boys' school.
Daniel Cross stood near the fence three days earlier.
He watched Noah, Eli, and Lucas leave.
But he wasn't alone.
A woman stood beside him.
I recognized her immediately.
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“You know her?”
I nodded.
“Miriam.”
The boys' nanny.
The woman who had helped me raise them since they were babies.
The woman with keys to my apartment.
The woman who knew their schedules.
Gabriel's face hardened.
Then the study door opened.
Adrian entered.
“We've tried calling her.”
“And?”
“Her phone is disconnected.”
I stood.
“She was supposed to pick up the boys tomorrow.”
Adrian looked at me.
“She left something in your apartment.”
“What?”
He placed a scanned note on Gabriel's desk.
Written in Miriam's handwriting:
Claire, I am sorry. Daniel made me promise I would never tell you who I really was.
My throat went dry.
Beneath it was another sentence.
My name isn't Miriam Lewis. It's Miriam Cross.
Gabriel stared at the page.
I whispered,
“Who is she?”
May you like
His answer came slowly.
“My sister.”
