Chapter 5 - the year nobody talked about)
Clara found Daniel alone in the kitchen after midnight.
He was sitting at the island with a glass of bourbon he had not touched.
Victoria had left with her parents.
The staff had gone to bed.
Adrian had taken the trust documents back to his office.
The villa felt unnaturally quiet.
Clara placed the note in front of her brother.
Daniel read it.
His face changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
“What happened in 2009?” Clara asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Daniel stared into the glass.
“I was twenty-one.”
“I remember.”
“You were in Boston.”
“I remember that too.”
“Dad and I were here.”
“And?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Drop it.”
“Robert Hayes told me our father buried something.”
“Robert says a lot of things.”
“Someone left that note beneath the prenup.”
“Could’ve been him.”
“Could’ve been Victoria.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Why would she?”
“Why did she take something from your desk?”
“You don’t know that she did.”
Clara leaned forward.
“Daniel, your future wife poured dirty ice water over someone she believed was powerless. She abused employees in your house. She searched your office. A confidential folder disappeared. And when she learned about the prenup, she refused to sign it.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“I know what happened today.”
“Then stop defending her.”
“I’m not defending her.”
“You’re protecting something.”
His silence answered.
Clara lowered her voice.
“What happened in 2009?”
Daniel stood.
“I said drop it.”
“Did Dad hurt someone?”
Daniel stopped.
The question hung between them.
Clara felt suddenly cold.
“Daniel.”
He closed his eyes.
“There was an accident.”
“What kind?”
“A car.”
“Whose car?”
“Dad’s.”
“Was he driving?”
“No.”
“Were you?”
Daniel looked at her.
Clara’s pulse slowed.
“No.”
“I was drunk.”
She stared.
“I was stupid. I took his car without permission.”
“Who was with you?”
Daniel’s eyes filled with something she had rarely seen in him.
Shame.
“A girl.”
“Who?”
“I don’t remember her last name.”
“You were in a serious accident with someone and don’t remember her name?”
“I barely knew her.”
“What happened to her?”
“She got hurt.”
“How badly?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara stood.
“How can you not know?”
“Dad handled it.”
“Handled what?”
“Everything.”
Police.
Insurance.
Hospital bills.
A family settlement.
Daniel’s hands were shaking now.
“He told me she recovered.”
“Did you see her?”
“No.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“No.”
“Did you see a police report?”
“No.”
Clara felt fury building.
“You just believed him?”
“I was twenty-one and terrified.”
“You were an adult.”
“I know.”
“What was her first name?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Rebecca.”
Clara took out her phone.
“Rebecca what?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“What hospital?”
“I don’t remember.”
“What road?”
“Clara.”
“What road?”
“Belt Line.”
She stared.
“Near Addison?”
“Yes.”
“Date?”
“October.”
“What date?”
He thought.
“October seventeenth.”
Clara typed the information into a message to Adrian.
Daniel grabbed her wrist.
“No.”
She looked down at his hand.
He released her.
“Why not?”
“Dad made me promise.”
“Dad is dead.”
“Some promises don’t disappear.”
“No. Some secrets become liabilities.”
Daniel looked toward the dark windows.
“He said revealing it would destroy the family.”
Clara’s voice softened.
“What exactly did he say?”
Daniel hesitated.
“He said if the truth came out, you would lose everything.”
Clara stopped.
“Me?”
Daniel nodded.
“Why would my life be affected by your accident?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask?”
“Of course.”
“And?”
“He said I didn’t understand what the accident uncovered.”
Clara felt a pressure growing in her chest.
“What did it uncover?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I never found out.”
Her phone buzzed.
Adrian.
Already awake.
Already searching.
Clara opened the message.
Only one sentence appeared.
There is no police accident report matching Daniel’s description on October 17, 2009.
She showed Daniel.
His face went white.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
“I saw police.”
“Uniformed officers?”
“Yes.”
“Marked cars?”
He hesitated.
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I had blood in my eyes.”
Clara stared at him.
“What happened to Rebecca?”
“I told you.”
“No. You told me what Dad told you.”
Daniel gripped the edge of the counter.
Clara’s phone buzzed again.
Adrian had sent an attachment.
A scanned hospital intake record.
October 18, 2009.
Female patient.
Age twenty-two.
Severe head trauma.
Multiple fractures.
No insurance information.
Transferred before sunrise.
Name:
REBECCA HAYES.
Clara looked up.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Neither spoke.
May you like
They did not need to.
Hayes.
