Chapter 10 - THE SECOND CHILD
Grant recovered in the mansion’s private medical suite.
He had been sedated, struck on the head, and moved twice. He remembered little after entering the stolen sedan.
The person inside had shown him Lily’s red raincoat and played a recording of her crying.
“It sounded real,” he told Emma. “I thought she was in the trunk.”
“Did you see the driver?”
“No. There was a partition.”
“Did anyone speak?”
“A woman.”
“Claire?”
Grant looked toward the window.
“I don’t know anymore.”
Lily sat outside his room for nearly an hour before entering.
When she did, Grant held out his hand.
She approached slowly.
Then she climbed into the bed beside him and whispered, “Dad.”
Grant broke.
He pressed his face into her hair and cried without sound.
Emma stepped into the corridor to give them privacy.
Renata stood near the stairwell.
She had changed from her burgundy gown into a simple black sweater and trousers. Without the carefully styled hair and diamonds, she looked younger and more exhausted.
“She spoke to him,” Renata said.
“Yes.”
“But not to me.”
Emma did not answer.
Renata stared through the glass panel.
“I didn’t hurt her before you came.”
“You arranged medical tests without consent.”
“I told myself it was only blood.”
“And after the results?”
Renata’s eyes lowered.
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I was sick.”
“So was Lily.”
“I thought Claire had stolen her from me.”
“Claire didn’t know at first.”
“She knew for years.”
“And spent those years trying to expose what happened.”
“While keeping my daughter.”
Emma faced her.
“You married Grant eighteen months after Claire died. Why?”
“At first, to get close to Lily.”
The honesty surprised Emma.
“And later?”
“I loved him.”
“Does Grant know that?”
“He knows enough to hate me.”
Renata looked through the glass again.
“I told myself Lily’s silence proved Claire had poisoned her against me. I tried to make her call me Mother. I removed photographs. I punished her when she hid.”
“What kind of punishment?”
Renata said nothing.
“Did you burn her?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Emma remembered the styling tool in the bathroom from the future confrontation not yet reached in the timeline. She also remembered the red mark beneath Lily’s ear after the clinic.
“What did you do to her hair?”
Renata’s jaw tightened.
“She refused to sit still.”
“You held a heated tool near a frightened child.”
“I never touched her skin.”
“Then why is she afraid of bathrooms?”
Renata’s eyes became wet.
“Because Claire died in water.”
Emma knew that was only part of the truth.
Grant called them inside.
He held the burned letter fragment.
“Claire wrote that Lily was never the intended heir.”
Renata approached the bed.
“What does that mean?”
Grant looked at her with open disgust.
“You knew about the succession clause.”
“Not when I met you.”
“You knew before we married.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew Lily was biologically yours.”
“I suspected.”
“You used me.”
Renata’s voice broke.
“I wanted my child.”
“You wanted the trust.”
“I wanted both.”
Lily flinched.
Renata saw it.
She stepped backward.
Grant’s anger deepened.
“Leave.”
“Grant.”
“Get out of this room.”
Renata left.
Lily watched her go.
Grant turned to Emma.
“The succession clause was added six months before Lily’s birth.”
“By Claire?”
“The document bears her signature, but she denied signing it.”
“Who was the intended heir?”
“Claire and I believed Lily was our only child.”
Emma remembered Eleanor’s revelation.
“There was another baby.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“My mother told me.”
“What if the second child survived?”
“Then Claire’s sentence may refer to her.”
“Where are the hospital records?”
“Destroyed in a fire seven years ago.”
“Convenient.”
Grant gave a humorless laugh.
“You’re learning how this family operates.”
Detective Voss entered carrying Claire’s photographs.
“We identified Dr. Helena Cross,” she said. “She disappeared six weeks after the yacht accident. Her passport was used in Lisbon last year.”
“Can you find her?” Grant asked.
“We are trying.”
Voss placed one photograph on the table.
It showed two newborns inside the hospital nursery.
One wore a white bracelet labeled BABY C. VALE.
The other wore a yellow bracelet labeled BABY R. DAVOR.
Both bracelets carried the same handwritten number.
1104.
November fourth.
Or something else.
Lily reached for the photograph.
She pointed to the reflection in the nursery window.
A nurse stood behind the photographer.
Her face was faint but visible.
Mrs. Cole.
Grant stared.
“She was there.”
Emma remembered Mrs. Cole’s words.
I have protected Lily since she was born.
They found the housekeeper in the service kitchen packing a suitcase.
Mrs. Cole did not deny being present.
“I worked nights at St. Orison’s before joining the Vale household,” she said.
“Did both infants survive?” Voss asked.
“Yes.”
Renata, standing in the doorway, made a strangled sound.
“Where is my other daughter?”
Mrs. Cole looked at Eleanor.
“Ask her.”
Eleanor entered behind Renata.
“I don’t know.”
Mrs. Cole laughed bitterly.
“You paid for the transport.”
“I paid Helena.”
“To move the child.”
“To correct the records.”
“You never asked where she was taken?”
Eleanor’s composure finally shattered.
“I was trying to protect Grant.”
“From what?” Emma asked.
“From Daniel.”
Daniel appeared at the opposite door.
Everyone turned.
Eleanor continued.
“The second child was registered under Daniel’s name.”
Daniel stared at her.
“I had no child.”
“Helena said your genetic material had been used.”
His face went white.
“Without my consent?”
“Yes.”
Renata gripped the counter.
“So my second daughter was biologically Daniel’s.”
Eleanor nodded.
“One daughter linked Grant to Renata. One linked Daniel to Renata. Both had potential claims under the family trust.”
Emma understood the design.
“Someone created two children who could control both branches of the Vale inheritance.”
Grant entered slowly, supported by a cane.
“And one of those children disappeared.”
Mrs. Cole closed her suitcase.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“The second child did not disappear.”
She turned toward Emma.
“She grew up under another name.”
Emma felt something inside her go still.
Mrs. Cole removed a small photograph from her pocket and placed it on the table.
It showed a four-year-old girl with dark-blonde hair, gray eyes, and a wooden bird painted blue.
Emma recognized the bird.
It had belonged to her grandmother.
May you like
Beneath the photograph, in Claire’s handwriting, was a name.
EMMA CROSS.
