Chapter 11 - the question clara refused to answer)
Daniel swore under his breath.
Robert stood so abruptly his chair struck the floor.
"Margaret."
She stopped halfway down the staircase.
"What?"
"Don't."
Emily looked from Margaret to Robert.
Her heartbeat accelerated.
"You know something about my father."
Margaret smiled.
"I know enough."
Robert said sharply, "Go upstairs."
Margaret laughed.
"Still protecting Clara."
Emily stepped toward him.
"No. She stays."
Robert looked at her.
"What is she talking about?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
Margaret continued down.
"Of course you don't."
Emily studied Robert's face.
There was fear there.
Not recognition.
Fear of the possibility.
Margaret reached the foyer.
"Clara told everyone Emily's father disappeared."
Emily's voice was cold.
"She told me he chose not to be involved."
"Did she give you a name?"
"No."
"Did you ever wonder why?"
"Every child would."
Margaret glanced at Robert.
Emily followed her gaze.
Then felt sick.
"No."
Robert whispered, "Margaret."
Emily backed away.
"No."
Margaret smiled.
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to."
Robert stepped forward.
"I am not Emily's father."
Emily stared at him.
"How do you know?"
Robert opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Margaret laughed.
"Exactly."
Daniel said, "Mom, what the hell are you doing?"
"Telling the truth."
"No. You're trying to hurt her."
"For once those are the same thing."
Emily looked at Robert.
"Were you and my mother together around the time I was conceived?"
Robert looked stunned.
"No."
"When did your relationship begin?"
"1996."
Emily was born in 1989.
Seven years earlier.
The tension loosened slightly.
Margaret shrugged.
"Clara knew Robert before 1996."
Robert turned.
"Through business. Nothing more."
Emily looked at Margaret.
"Then why bring this up?"
"Because box 317 may contain things you won't like."
"You don't know what's inside."
Margaret's eyes revealed too much.
Emily smiled slowly.
"You do."
Margaret said nothing.
"You've been inside the box."
"No."
"You've seen its contents."
Silence.
Robert stepped closer.
"How?"
Margaret looked trapped.
Daniel said, "Mom."
Margaret suddenly seemed exhausted.
"For thirty years I have protected this family."
Robert replied, "From the truth."
"From destruction."
"You mean consequences."
She ignored him.
Emily held up the brass key.
"If you've seen the box, why couldn't you remove everything?"
Margaret's gaze settled on it.
"Because it requires two keys."
Emily frowned.
Robert whispered, "Safe deposit boxes."
Of course.
The customer had one key.
The bank held another.
Margaret could have known the contents through correspondence without being able to access the box.
Emily asked, "What does it contain?"
Margaret turned away.
"Ask Clara."
Daniel shook his head.
"She's dead."
Margaret stopped.
For the briefest moment, regret crossed her face.
Then it vanished.
Emily noticed.
"Did you hate my mother?"
Margaret looked at her.
"Yes."
"Enough to ruin her?"
Margaret did not answer.
That was enough.
Emily went upstairs.
Not because the conversation had ended.
Because she needed distance.
At four ten in the morning, she sat alone beside the guest room window watching snow fall.
Daniel knocked this time.
She almost ignored him.
Then said, "Come in."
He entered but stayed by the door.
"My father called Commonwealth Atlantic."
Emily looked at the clock.
"At four in the morning?"
"He called the emergency private banking number. Apparently being Robert Hartwell occasionally helps."
"Did they confirm the box exists?"
Daniel nodded.
"Box 317 is still active."
Emily stood.
"In whose name?"
"They wouldn't say."
"Can I access it?"
"They'll meet us at nine on the twenty-sixth."
Emily sighed.
More than a day.
Margaret had twenty-nine hours to interfere.
Daniel seemed to read her thoughts.
"Dad arranged security."
"At a bank?"
"For the box."
Emily laughed faintly.
"This is insane."
"Yes."
He lingered.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"The bank representative said the account has a secondary contact instruction."
Emily waited.
"The secondary contact was updated three years ago."
Emily's pulse quickened.
"When my mother died."
"Yes."
"To whom?"
"They wouldn't tell us over the phone."
Emily stared out the window.
Three years ago.
Clara had expected the box to survive her.
She had also expected somebody else to become connected to it.
"Maybe Helen Price."
"She was already dead."
"Then who?"
Daniel shook his head.
"I don't know."
Emily looked at him.
For the first time since the dinner, Daniel appeared frightened for a reason that had nothing to do with losing the house.
He was afraid of what the truth might reveal about the life he had helped build.
"Emily."
"What?"
"If the box proves Mom forged the documents all those years ago, I'll testify."
She looked at him.
"Against your mother?"
"Yes."
"And against yourself?"
Daniel hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
Emily did not thank him.
Doing the right thing after years of helping create the wrong thing did not earn gratitude.
But she believed he meant it.
For the moment.
"Get some sleep," she said.
Daniel reached the doorway.
Emily called after him.
"Daniel."
He turned.
"If your mother asks you for the key again?"
"I'll tell you."
"No."
Emily held his gaze.
"You'll tell her you don't know where it is."
Daniel understood.
They needed Margaret to believe the key remained vulnerable.
He nodded.
When he left, Emily opened her hand.
The brass key rested in her palm.
Then she removed the chain from around her neck.
A tiny silver locket hung from it.
Her mother's locket.
Emily opened it.
Inside was a childhood photograph.
She had seen it thousands of times.
But tonight, under the bedside lamp, she noticed something she had never noticed before.
Behind six-year-old Emily and Clara stood a brick building.
On the brass plaque beside the door were two visible numbers.
3 and 17.
Emily stared.
Maybe coincidence.
Maybe not.
Then she looked closer at the man standing partially outside the edge of the photograph.
Only his hand and part of his jacket were visible.
He wore a distinctive square signet ring.
Emily had seen that ring before.
May you like
Not on Robert.
On someone else at tonight's Christmas dinner.
