Chapter 2 - the woman from the photograph)
Claire went downstairs before Ethan could stop her.
The woman waiting in the lobby was not old enough to have known Claire's mother well.
She looked around thirty-five, perhaps younger, with long blonde hair and a red wool coat.
She stood beside the marble reception desk holding a small velvet box.
The moment Claire entered, the woman looked at her with an expression that was almost pity.
"Claire Monroe."
"Who are you?"
"Vanessa Rowe."
The name meant nothing.
Behind Claire, Ethan stepped from the elevator.
Vanessa's attention moved to him.
Her expression changed.
"So he didn't tell you."
Claire turned toward Ethan.
"Tell me what?"
Ethan said nothing.
Vanessa laughed quietly.
"Of course."
"Vanessa," Ethan said, "leave."
Claire looked between them.
"You know her."
"Unfortunately," Vanessa replied.
Ethan moved closer.
"She's here to cause trouble."
Vanessa held up the velvet box.
"No, Ethan. Trouble started long before I arrived."
She offered the box to Claire.
Inside lay a silver necklace identical to the one in the photograph.
Claire's breath caught.
"Where did you get this?"
"Your mother."
Ethan stepped forward.
"That's enough."
Claire raised a hand.
"No."
She looked at Vanessa.
"Explain."
Vanessa glanced toward the security cameras in the lobby.
"Not here."
"We're not going anywhere with you."
"I wasn't asking you."
Her eyes stayed on Claire.
"Your mother left something behind. Something the Ashfords have spent nearly two decades trying to find."
Claire felt Ethan stiffen beside her.
"What?"
"A key."
Vanessa tapped the pendant.
"It opens something inside Saint Orison."
Claire almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the entire conversation was becoming impossible.
"My mother was a schoolteacher."
"Your mother was many things."
"She taught eighth-grade history."
"And before that?"
Claire had no answer.
Vanessa closed the box.
"Eleanor Monroe worked for the Ashford Foundation."
Claire looked at Ethan.
His face confirmed it.
"You knew."
"I knew she had worked with the foundation."
"And you never told me?"
"I didn't know until after we started dating."
"How long after?"
Ethan hesitated.
"Six months."
Claire stepped away from him.
Three years.
For three years he had known.
Vanessa continued.
"Eleanor wasn't just an employee. She was investigating financial transfers linked to Saint Orison."
"Stop," Ethan said.
Vanessa ignored him.
"Then she died."
Claire felt the room tilt.
"My mother died in a car accident."
"That's what the report said."
Ethan stepped between them.
"Vanessa has spent years making accusations she can't prove."
"Then prove her wrong."
Claire's voice surprised even herself.
Ethan turned.
"Claire."
"Did my mother investigate your family?"
"Yes."
"Did your father know?"
"Yes."
"Did you know?"
"Some of it."
"And you decided I didn't need to?"
"I wanted to protect you."
Claire looked at him for a long moment.
Those words destroyed more trust than any confession could have.
Vanessa smiled faintly.
"They always call it protection."
Claire looked back at her.
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because you're getting married at Saint Orison."
"That was Ethan's grandmother's idea."
"No."
Vanessa shook her head.
"It was Richard's."
Claire remembered the dinner.
Richard Ashford raising a glass.
His warm smile.
The way he had said the mountain chapel would make the perfect place to join two families.
Her stomach tightened.
"Why would he want us married there?"
Vanessa handed her the necklace.
"Because he thinks you have the key."
Claire stared at it.
"I don't."
Vanessa leaned closer.
"Then find it before he does."
Ethan reached for Claire.
She stepped away.
Vanessa walked toward the revolving doors.
"Wait," Claire called.
Vanessa stopped.
"Why do you care?"
For the first time, the confidence vanished from Vanessa's face.
"Because your mother wasn't the only person who died."
She opened the door.
Cold air swept into the lobby.
"My brother did too."
Then she walked away.
That night Claire did not sleep beside Ethan.
She slept in Lily's room.
At two in the morning she sat beneath the dim night-light, holding her daughter and searching through old photographs on her laptop.
Most showed an ordinary childhood.
Birthdays.
School plays.
A yellow bicycle.
Her mother laughing beside a Christmas tree.
Then Claire found a photograph she had never noticed before.
Her mother stood beside a younger Richard Ashford.
Behind them was Saint Orison.
And between them stood a teenage boy.
On the back of the scanned photograph someone had written a name.
Daniel Rowe.
Vanessa's brother.
May you like
Claire stared at the date.
The photograph had been taken three days before Daniel disappeared.
