Chapter 3 - What Linda Buried
Rachel called that afternoon.
Claire almost didn't answer.
"Claire?"
Her voice was trembling.
"What?"
"I need to tell you something."
"About the trust?"
Rachel went silent.
"How do you know?"
"Ethan."
Rachel sighed.
"I knew you'd find out eventually."
"How long have you known?"
"I found the documents last year."
Claire closed her eyes.
"Last year?"
"Yes."
"And you said nothing?"
"I was scared."
"Of Mom?"
"Of what would happen if she knew I had seen them."
Claire walked toward the window.
"What exactly did you see?"
Rachel's breathing became shaky.
"There was a second will."
Claire stopped.
"Whose?"
"Your father's."
"My father had a will."
"Not the one we were shown."
Claire's heart raced.
"What did the second will say?"
"I didn't read all of it."
"Rachel."
"I only saw the first page."
"What did it say?"
Rachel whispered.
"It said your mother was not supposed to control anything after your father's death."
Claire stared at the street below.
"Then how did she?"
"I don't know."
"You do know."
"I know she changed something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"Rachel."
"I swear."
Claire heard something in Rachel's voice.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Where is the will?"
Rachel didn't answer.
"Rachel."
"I gave it to Mom."
Claire's stomach dropped.
"You what?"
"I thought she would explain."
"And?"
"She burned it."
Claire's hand tightened around the phone.
"You're sure?"
"I saw the fireplace."
Claire didn't speak.
Rachel began crying quietly.
"I was twenty-nine, Claire. I didn't understand what I was looking at."
"You knew enough to be afraid."
"I know."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Mom said Dad's death wasn't an accident."
Claire froze.
"What?"
Rachel whispered.
"She said if I ever told you, you'd end up like him."
The room seemed to become unnaturally quiet.
Claire could hear the refrigerator humming.
Nothing else.
"Rachel."
"Yes?"
"What did she mean?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"I've tried."
"Rachel."
"I don't know!"
Her voice cracked.
Then she whispered.
"Claire, there is something else."
"What?"
"Your father left someone behind."
Claire's pulse quickened.
"Who?"
"I don't know his name."
"You said someone."
"An attorney."
"What attorney?"
"I don't remember."
"Rachel."
"He came to the house once."
"When?"
"About a month before Dad died."
"What did he look like?"
Rachel hesitated.
"Older. Gray hair. Dark coat."
"Anything else?"
"He had the same ring."
Claire stared at her mother's message still sitting on her phone.
The black-stone ring.
"Rachel, where did you see him?"
"At Mom's office."
"Was Dad there?"
"No."
"Then who was?"
Rachel's voice dropped.
"Mom."
Claire felt a chill.
"Was anyone else there?"
Rachel didn't answer.
"Rachel?"
"I think..."
"What?"
"I think you were there too."
Claire stopped breathing for a moment.
"I was sixteen."
"I know."
"Why would I be there?"
"I don't know."
"Rachel."
"I remember you crying."
Claire's mind went blank.
May you like
She had no memory of that day.
None.
