CHAPTER 10 — THE DAUGHTER THEY BURIED
“Bring me my granddaughter.”
The words remained on the screen.
Nobody moved.
My mother stood in the middle of the room, staring at the photograph.
My father looked like he had aged twenty years in a single minute.
Lauren was crying.
And James—
James was the only person who seemed completely calm.
He took my phone.
Read the message again.
Then looked at my mother.
“You know where she is.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“You know who has her.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Rebecca.”
My heart pounded.
“You said she was dangerous.”
“She is.”
“She wants Emma.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Because Emma is the first child in twenty-eight years who can legally open the trust.”
James interrupted.
“That isn't enough.”
My mother looked at him.
He continued.
“Someone willing to threaten a baby isn't interested in money alone.”
My mother said nothing.
James stepped closer.
“What does Rebecca really want?”
My mother finally whispered:
“Her children.”
The room went silent.
“Both of them.”
I stared at her.
“My sister is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You just said Rebecca has her.”
“I said Rebecca knows where she is.”
“Then who has her?”
My mother looked at my father.
He didn't answer.
I felt something inside me snap.
“You both lied to me.”
My voice rose.
“You lied about my birth.”
“You lied about Rebecca.”
“You lied about my sister.”
“And now you're telling me you don't know where she is?”
My mother started crying.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You've been protecting me for twenty-eight years!”
“I know.”
“From what?”
She looked at Emma.
“From the truth.”
James placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Let her speak.”
My mother took a shaky breath.
“After the fire, Rebecca disappeared.”
“She didn't die.”
“No.”
“She escaped.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Canada.”
I froze.
“She lived there?”
“For several years.”
“With my sister?”
“No.”
“Then where was my sister?”
My mother looked at me.
“Rebecca gave her to someone she trusted.”
“Who?”
“A woman named Clara Bennett.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Who is she?”
“A nurse.”
“Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
My heart dropped.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“Then where is my sister?”
My mother shook her head.
“We don't know.”
James asked:
“What happened six years ago?”
My mother looked toward my father.
He answered.
“Clara contacted Rebecca.”
“Why?”
“She said she knew where the other daughter was.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Clara died before she could tell us.”
The room fell silent.
Lauren suddenly spoke.
“That's not all.”
Everyone looked at her.
She pulled out her phone.
“I found Clara's name in Victor's records.”
James took the phone.
There was a list of payments.
Monthly transfers.
For twenty-two years.
The recipient:
CLARA BENNETT.
My stomach tightened.
“She was being paid.”
My father nodded.
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“Victor Hale.”
James stared at the records.
“How much?”
Lauren answered.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars every month.”
“For twenty-two years?”
“Yes.”
James did the math silently.
Then looked at my father.
“That's over six million dollars.”
My father nodded.
“What was he paying her for?”
My mother whispered:
“To keep the other daughter hidden.”
I stared at her.
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
“Why?”
My mother looked at me.
“Because she was more important than you.”
The words cut deeper than she probably intended.
James immediately stepped closer to me.
My mother shook her head.
“No. That's not what I meant.”
“Then explain.”
“The two of you were born with different blood markers.”
I frowned.
“What?”
My mother swallowed.
“Your sister had a rare genetic marker inherited from Rebecca.”
“What marker?”
“Something the trust documents used to identify the rightful heir.”
James looked at her.
“Not just by name.”
“No.”
“By blood.”
My mother nodded.
“That was why Rebecca had twins.”
I stared at her.
“Why would the trust require that?”
“Your grandmother feared someone would steal the identity of the heir.”
“So she created a biological verification.”
“Yes.”
“Then why am I the beneficiary?”
My mother looked at me.
“You aren't.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“You are the protector.”
I didn't understand.
“Emma is the heir.”
James's expression hardened.
“And the other twin?”
My mother looked away.
“The other twin is the key.”
Silence.
“To what?”
“The final vault.”
My father slowly stood.
“There is another trust.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
He nodded.
“The money and company shares are only the outer layer.”
“What is inside the final vault?”
My father looked terrified.
“Proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Everything.”
Rebecca's disappearance.
The forged death certificates.
The stolen assets.
The names of everyone involved.
And one document that could destroy Victor Hale.
“What document?”
My father whispered:
“Your grandmother's original will.”
I stared.
“Didn't we already find her will?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“That was the public will.”
“The real one was hidden.”
“Where?”
My father looked at Emma.
“In the final vault.”
James asked:
“How do we open it?”
My mother answered.
“Two bloodlines.”
My stomach tightened.
“The twins.”
“Yes.”
“And Emma?”
“She activates the system.”
James understood.
“Three generations.”
My mother nodded.
“Grandmother created a chain.”
Rebecca's child.
Her granddaughter.
Only together could they access everything.
Then my phone vibrated.
A new message.
YOU HAVE NINETY MINUTES.
Another.
COME TO THE WALKER MAUSOLEUM.
Then:
BRING EMMA.
James immediately shook his head.
“No.”
My mother looked at him.
“They'll kill the other twin.”
James's eyes hardened.
“That's exactly what they want us to believe.”
My mother stared at him.
“What?”
“Rebecca doesn't need Emma dead.”
James held up the photograph.
“She needs Emma alive.”
He looked at the messages.
“Because Emma is the only person who can activate the trust.”
I realized what he was doing.
He wasn't panicking.
He was calculating.
“You're going to use Emma as bait.”
James looked at me.
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I'm going to make them think they have her.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you planning?”
James looked toward the nursery.
Then at my mother.
“Tell me everything about the mausoleum.”
My mother hesitated.
James's voice became colder.
“Because we're going there.”
May you like
A pause.
“But not the way they expect.”
