Chapter 9 - MY MOTHER’S SIGNATURE
My mother had been dead for twelve years.
At least, that was what I had been told.
The photograph showed her older than she had been at her funeral. A date stamped in the corner proved it had been taken three years after her supposed death.
My hands shook as I opened the blue ledger.
My father had documented payments to Judge Hale, Lauren Vale, and a company called Providence Family Solutions. Beside each payment was a woman’s name and a property value.
Amanda — $1.2 million.
Julia — $850,000.
Karen — $3.4 million.
Sophie — $2.1 million.
Melissa — pending.
Emily — $6 million + child.
My father had known.
Worse, he had funded them.
A note in his handwriting appeared beside my name:
Daniel becoming unstable. Emily must never learn what happened to her mother.
A floorboard creaked in the hallway.
I hid the ledger beneath the mattress.
Rachel entered using a key.
She was thirty-two, perfectly dressed, and carrying baby clothes.
Her gaze dropped to my belly.
“You look worse than Daniel said.”
“You knew about the cage.”
Rachel folded a pink blanket.
“I knew you needed supervision.”
“You’re planning to take my daughter.”
Her hands paused.
Then she looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“I was promised a child.”
“By whom?”
“Our mother.”
Daniel had told me Rachel’s mother died when they were children.
Rachel sat beside me.
“She isn’t dead. She runs Providence.”
The woman in the photograph was not my mother.
She was Daniel and Rachel’s mother, Evelyn Carter.
But my father had been standing beside her, his hand at her waist.
The dates revealed the truth.
Evelyn and my father had been partners.
Possibly lovers.
My marriage to Daniel had never been accidental.
It had been arranged to merge access to my trust with Providence’s legal network.
Rachel touched my wrist.
“I didn’t know they would hurt you like this.”
“You accepted my baby.”
“I thought you would be declared unfit.”
“You saw the cage?”
Her eyes filled.
Once.
Rachel had entered the garage while I was sedated. Daniel told her it was therapeutic restraint.
I wanted to hate her.
Instead, I saw another person trained to accept cruelty when it benefited her.
“Help me,” I said.
She looked toward the door.
“If Daniel finds out—”
“He will destroy you next.”
I showed her the photograph and ledger.
Rachel’s face collapsed when she saw the entry beside her own name.
RACHEL — infertile claim useful. Transfer after birth. Remove if resistant.
She covered her mouth.
A key turned in the bedroom lock.
Rachel shoved the ledger under her coat.
Daniel entered.
His eyes moved from me to his sister.
“What are you hiding?”
Rachel forced a smile.
“Nothing.”
May you like
Daniel held out his hand.
The blue ledger slipped from beneath her coat and struck the floor.
