Chapter 4 - The Memory Claire Lost
Claire spent the night searching through old photographs.
She found birthdays.
Christmases.
School events.
Family vacations.
There were dozens of pictures from the year she turned sixteen.
But one day was missing.
October 14.
Her birthday.
There were no photographs.
No cards.
No messages.
Nothing.
Claire opened an old storage box.
At the bottom was a small digital camera.
She plugged it into her laptop.
Most of the files were corrupted.
One opened.
The image was blurry.
A hallway.
Her family's old house.
A door.
Claire stared at it.
She recognized the door immediately.
Her father's study.
She opened the next file.
The camera had recorded twelve seconds of video.
Claire clicked play.
Her sixteen-year-old voice filled the room.
"Mom, why are you doing this?"
Claire froze.
The recording was dark.
She could hear Linda.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain it."
"I can't."
"Why is Dad crying?"
Claire's hand flew to her mouth.
The recording ended.
She played it again.
Then again.
The next file opened.
The picture showed the study.
Her father was sitting behind his desk.
His face looked exhausted.
Linda stood beside him.
A man was facing them.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
Black-stone ring.
Claire leaned closer.
The man turned slightly.
His face was visible.
Claire recognized him.
Not from her childhood.
From the present.
She had seen him two days earlier.
At her father's memorial.
He had stood in the back.
Watching her.
Claire immediately called Ethan.
"I found him."
"Found who?"
"The attorney."
Silence.
"Claire, what are you talking about?"
"I know his face."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know his name."
"Send me the photograph."
She did.
Seconds later, Ethan called back.
"Claire."
"What?"
"I know him."
Her heart stopped.
"Who?"
"His name is Daniel Mercer."
Claire frowned.
"Why do I know that name?"
"You shouldn't."
"What does that mean?"
Ethan took a breath.
"Daniel Mercer was the attorney who handled your father's estate."
Claire sat down.
"No."
"Yes."
"He retired."
"Officially."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he disappeared after your father's death."
Claire stared at the screen.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Another message appeared.
Unknown number.
Stop looking into the trust.
Claire's blood ran cold.
A second message followed.
Your father made a choice.
Now you must make yours.
Claire looked toward the locked door.
Then she heard a sound outside.
A car door closing.
She went to the window.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Someone was sitting inside.
Watching her building.
Her phone rang.
Linda.
Claire answered.
"What did you do?"
Linda's voice was calm.
"You opened the file."
Claire said nothing.
"I told you not to."
"Mom, what happened to Dad?"
Linda breathed slowly.
"Come home."
"Tell me."
"I can't."
"You can."
"No, Claire."
Her mother's voice cracked for the first time.
"Because if I tell you, you won't be able to pretend our family is what you thought it was."
The line went dead.
May you like
Claire looked back at the black sedan.
The driver was gone.
