Chapter 12 - the girl at the airport)
They reached the airport too late.
Victoria and the girl had already passed security.
Adrian’s investigator traced two tickets to Washington, D.C.
Daniel wanted to call federal authorities.
Clara stopped him.
“On what grounds?”
“The stolen documents.”
“We don’t have proof she has them.”
“She took them.”
“We believe she took them.”
“And the girl?”
“We don’t know who legally has custody.”
Daniel stared through the glass toward the runways.
“That kid could be our niece.”
“Great-niece,” Adrian corrected.
Daniel gave him a look.
“Not helping.”
Clara barely heard them.
She kept staring at the security image on Adrian’s tablet.
Ava.
Fourteen.
Rebecca’s daughter.
Her blood.
A child who might have spent her entire life unaware that one of America’s wealthiest private family trusts possibly owed her millions.
Clara thought about Rebecca’s letter.
Victoria may one day come looking for your family.
She is not only seeking revenge.
She believes the trust belongs to her.
Adrian said, “Washington makes sense.”
“Why?”
“Pierce has contacts there.”
Clara looked at him.
“What kind?”
“Lobbyists. Former regulators. Estate litigation specialists.”
Daniel frowned.
“You think she’s filing a claim?”
“I think she may be preparing one.”
Clara nodded.
“And the black folder contains the evidence.”
They returned to Adrian’s office.
By afternoon, his team found more.
Rebecca had given birth under another surname.
Lane.
Ava Lane.
The adoption two years later was private.
Her adoptive parents were Matthew and Lauren Whitmore.
Clara recognized the name.
“Whitmore?”
Adrian nodded.
“Gerald Whitmore’s son.”
Daniel stared.
“Dad’s other lawyer?”
Gerald Whitmore had served on the Vance Foundation board for twenty-five years.
He attended every family funeral.
Every holiday gala.
Every major trust meeting.
Clara felt betrayed before she even understood why.
“Call Gerald.”
“He isn’t answering.”
“Where is he?”
“His office says vacation.”
“Where?”
“No destination.”
Clara’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Clara Vance?”
“Yes.”
A young voice.
Female.
Nervous.
“My name is Ava.”
Clara stood.
Daniel looked at her immediately.
Clara put the call on speaker.
“Ava?”
“I was told you’re my aunt.”
Daniel shook his head emotionally.
Clara corrected gently.
“Your mother was my sister.”
Silence.
“I know.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Is Victoria with you?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Clara looked at Daniel.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Victoria’s voice suddenly appeared in the background.
“Ava, give me the phone.”
The girl whispered, “No.”
Clara remained calm.
“Ava, listen to me. You don’t know me. I understand that. I’m not asking you to trust me yet.”
“My mom wrote about you.”
Clara’s chest tightened.
“She did?”
“She said you didn’t know.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“No. I didn’t.”
“She said Grandpa Charles was afraid of you finding out.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m still trying to understand.”
Victoria’s voice came closer.
“Ava.”
The girl spoke quickly.
“I have the folder.”
Everyone froze.
Clara asked, “The black folder?”
“Yes.”
“Did Victoria give it to you?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Ava hesitated.
“A man named Gerald.”
Clara stared at Adrian.
“Gerald Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did he give it to you?”
“He said it belonged to my mother.”
Clara’s voice became softer.
“Ava, what’s inside?”
“Letters.”
“What letters?”
“From Charles.”
Daniel stepped closer.
Ava continued.
“And a document with his signature.”
Adrian mouthed, amendment.
Clara asked, “Can you read the date?”
Paper moved on the other end.
“November 12, 2009.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Three weeks after the crash.
Clara whispered, “Ava, listen carefully. Keep that document with you.”
Victoria shouted in the background.
“Give me the phone now.”
Ava ignored her.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
Clara’s pulse quickened.
“Of what?”
Ava’s voice became confused.
“You.”
Clara frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re holding a baby.”
“I don’t have children.”
“I know.”
“Then it isn’t me.”
Ava whispered.
“It says Clara on the back.”
The call disconnected.
Daniel stared at Clara.
She slowly lowered the phone.
Adrian said, “Another Clara?”
Clara thought of Dr. Lane’s words.
The name she used before Robert Hayes adopted her.
Clara.
Daniel whispered, “Rebecca was named Clara first.”
Clara looked toward the darkening windows.
“No.”
They turned toward her.
“She said the photograph shows a woman holding a baby.”
“Yes.”
“If Rebecca was the woman…”
May you like
Daniel understood.
“Who was the baby?”
