Chapter 4 - The Sister Who Vanished
Claire could not decide where to look.
At Sophie.
At June.
At Daniel.
At the printed email in her hand.
“You have a daughter?”
Sophie nodded.
“June is nine.”
Claire almost laughed from the cruelty of it.
Nine.
The age Sophie had been when Claire lost her.
June studied Claire nervously.
“You’re Aunt Claire?”
Claire’s anger cracked.
“Yes.”
June looked toward the door.
“Emma is my cousin?”
“Yes.”
“She seems nice.”
Claire stared at her.
“You took Snowdrop?”
June nodded.
“Mom told me where to find it.”
Sophie quickly added, “I sent her onto your back porch. I didn’t tell her to go inside your house.”
“She didn’t,” Claire said.
“Emma left the rabbit on a chair while she was playing outside,” June explained.
Claire turned to Sophie.
“Why?”
Sophie pointed toward the key.
“Because Dad left instructions before he died.”
Claire absorbed the new blow.
“Dad is dead?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“How?”
“Cancer.”
No kidnapping.
No dramatic accident.
Just six weeks of ordinary grief Claire had not known she should be sharing.
Sophie sat on the bed.
“He spent years collecting evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Mom’s company. Victor’s shell corporations. The trust.”
Daniel interrupted.
“You don’t know what those documents mean.”
Sophie looked at him with open contempt.
“I know exactly what they mean.”
Claire held up the email.
“And what does this mean?”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“That message is out of context.”
“What context makes ‘keep Claire unaware’ acceptable?”
“I was protecting you.”
Sophie laughed bitterly.
“That’s what liars always call it.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Sophie, you don’t know me.”
“I know you billed Victor Hale for eighteen months of title cleanup on Hawthorne House.”
Claire turned sharply.
Daniel did not deny it.
Sophie continued.
“I know Victor plans to demolish this place next Thursday.”
“What?” Claire whispered.
“He needs the original records gone.”
Daniel said, “Demolition was suspended.”
“Not anymore.”
Sophie produced a municipal notice.
Claire read the date.
Four days away.
“This house belongs to us.”
“Legally,” Sophie said, “if we can prove the trust was never properly terminated.”
Daniel sat down.
“Claire, listen. There are more complications.”
Claire stared.
“I’m listening.”
“Your mother took loans against several trust assets years ago.”
“Without us knowing?”
“Yes.”
“And you discovered that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniel’s eyes filled with shame.
“Because our house was collateralized through one of the same entities.”
Claire went silent.
Daniel continued.
“When my firm nearly failed, your mother offered financing.”
Claire remembered.
Three years earlier, Daniel’s small real-estate practice had survived what he called a fortunate private investment.
Margaret.
“You told me an investor saved the firm.”
“She did.”
“With stolen money?”
“I didn’t know at first.”
“At first.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“I found out later.”
Sophie whispered, “And then you kept quiet.”
Daniel looked at Claire.
“If the trust fraud became public, there was a possibility our home could be pulled into litigation. I was trying to fix it quietly.”
“How?”
“By unwinding the titles.”
“While letting Victor demolish the evidence?”
“I never agreed to that.”
Claire slammed the papers onto the desk.
“You agreed to keep me ignorant.”
Daniel had no answer.
June began crying silently.
Sophie pulled her close.
Claire saw the damage spreading to another generation.
She forced her voice down.
“Tell me everything from the beginning.”
Sophie looked at Daniel.
“Not with him here.”
Claire did too.
Daniel flinched.
“Claire.”
“Go home.”
“You shouldn’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor knows Sophie is back.”
Sophie stood.
“How?”
Daniel realized too late that he had said too much.
Claire stared.
“How does Victor know?”
Daniel said nothing.
“How?”
“I received a call yesterday.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“He asked whether anyone had contacted you.”
Claire felt sick.
“You knew someone might.”
“I suspected.”
Sophie laughed without humor.
“Wonderful.”
Claire pointed toward the door.
“Go.”
Daniel looked at her for a long moment, then left.
When his footsteps faded, Claire sat beside Sophie.
“Now tell me.”
Sophie reached beneath the bed and removed an old cassette recorder.
“Dad recorded the night we left.”
Claire’s heartbeat thudded.
“Why?”
“Because he knew no one would believe him.”
Sophie inserted a tape.
Peter Mercer’s voice filled the blue room.
Older than Claire remembered.
Terrified.
Then Margaret’s voice.
“You sign tonight, Peter, or Victor calls the police.”
Peter:
“You stole from the girls.”
Margaret:
“I built everything we have.”
Victor Hale:
“And tomorrow, everyone will believe you kidnapped your daughter.”
The recording crackled.
Then nine-year-old Sophie’s voice could be heard crying.
Claire covered her mouth.
The tape continued.
Peter said one final sentence.
“You can take the house, Margaret. But one day Claire will know what you did.”
Sophie stopped the tape.
Claire sat frozen.
Then headlights swept across the blue room.
A vehicle stopped outside.
Sophie ran to the window.
Her face drained.
“Claire.”
May you like
“What?”
“That’s Victor’s car.”
