Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO DIED TWICE
Emma learned about the letter the morning after she woke.
Detective Morales did not soften the facts.
Emma preferred it that way.
She sat upright in the hospital bed while Caleb stood near the window.
“Your mother wrote the letter approximately seventeen years ago,” Morales said.
Emma stared at the photocopy.
Laura Carter’s handwriting was unfamiliar.
That hurt more than Emma expected.
A daughter should recognize her mother’s handwriting.
Emma knew Vivian’s signature.
She knew Richard’s.
She knew the handwriting of teachers she had not seen in years.
But her own mother’s looked like it belonged to a stranger.
“What family trust?”
“We’re still determining that.”
“My father told me my mother had no money.”
Morales nodded.
“That appears to be false.”
Emma read the last sentence again.
Protect our daughter.
She laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“He did a great job.”
Caleb looked at her.
Emma shook her head.
“No. Don’t defend him.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Her eyes filled anyway.
“He gave me the drink.”
Caleb said nothing.
Morales did.
“The video shows him carrying it to you.”
“Did he know what was inside?”
“We believe so.”
Emma looked at the detective.
“Believe?”
“Your father has asked to cooperate.”
Emma’s face hardened.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“After I almost died?”
Morales leaned forward slightly.
“The dosage was not likely intended to kill you.”
Emma looked at her.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Morales remained calm.
“It was likely intended to make you appear disoriented or unstable.”
“For the conservatorship.”
“Yes.”
Emma looked at the window.
Beyond the glass, ordinary traffic moved along the street.
People went to work.
Bought coffee.
Argued over parking spaces.
The world had not changed.
Only hers had.
“When did my mother die?”
Morales paused.
“That’s complicated.”
“Tell me.”
“The official record says Laura Carter died in a vehicle fire in northern Virginia sixteen years ago.”
“I know.”
“The body was identified by dental records.”
Emma nodded.
“That’s what Dad told me.”
Morales placed another folder on the bed.
“The dental records were altered.”
Emma stopped.
“The remains were never genetically tested.”
“Why not?”
“Your father declined.”
Emma turned pale.
Morales continued carefully.
“Yesterday, we found a storage box in your uncle Peter’s basement. It contained photographs of Laura taken after the date of the accident.”
The photograph from the evidence bag appeared again.
Emma’s mother outside a brick building.
“What building is that?”
“A private rehabilitation facility that closed twelve years ago.”
Emma frowned.
“Rehabilitation?”
“It treated psychiatric patients.”
“My mother wasn’t mentally ill.”
Morales’s expression told her something.
“What?”
“We don’t know what her condition was.”
Emma looked at Caleb.
Then back at Morales.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Morales inhaled.
“Several former employees remember a patient matching Laura’s description.”
Emma’s fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Under what name?”
Morales hesitated.
“Emma Lawson.”
Silence filled the room.
Emma whispered, “Lawson?”
Vivian’s maiden name.
Morales nodded.
“Someone admitted your mother under your stepmother’s family name.”
Emma stared at the photograph.
“Vivian knew her before Dad married her.”
“We believe so.”
The door opened.
A hospital officer stepped inside.
“Detective?”
Morales turned.
“Richard Carter’s attorney says he’s ready.”
“For what?”
“To give a full statement.”
Emma laughed bitterly.
“How convenient.”
Morales looked at her.
“He says he wants to speak with you first.”
“No.”
“Emma—”
“No.”
Caleb moved closer.
“You don’t owe him anything.”
Emma nodded.
Then her eyes returned to her mother’s letter.
Protect our daughter.
Her father had failed every word.
But if Richard knew where Laura had been, Emma wanted answers.
“Actually,” she said, “I’ll talk to him.”
Caleb frowned.
“You sure?”
“No.”
She looked at Morales.
“But bring him in.”
Twenty minutes later Richard Carter entered in handcuffs.
He looked twenty years older.
His hair was uncombed.
His eyes were red.
Emma had seen her father tired.
She had seen him angry.
She had never seen him ashamed.
He stopped beside the door.
“Emma.”
She stared at him.
He began crying.
Emma felt nothing.
Richard took one step closer.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s your opening?”
He lowered his head.
“I deserve that.”
“You drugged me.”
His face twisted.
“I didn’t know she used that much.”
Emma went still.
Caleb swore under his breath.
Richard realized what he had admitted.
Emma whispered, “So you knew.”
“Yes.”
The word destroyed something permanent.
Richard continued quickly.
“Vivian said it would only make you confused. She said doctors would observe you overnight, we’d file the petition, and then—”
“And then you would steal whatever my mother left me.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Richard looked toward Morales.
His lips trembled.
“We were trying to keep you alive.”
Emma almost laughed again.
“You drugged me to keep me alive?”
Richard leaned closer.
“You don’t understand what that trust contains.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
Richard looked at the detective.
“Get Vivian away from this floor.”
Morales frowned.
“She’s already secured.”
“No.”
Richard’s fear seemed real.
“You don’t understand her either.”
He turned back to Emma.
“Your mother didn’t create that trust to make you rich.”
Emma stared at him.
“She created it as insurance.”
May you like
“Against what?”
Richard whispered, “Against the family.”
