Chapter 8 - the father behind the revenge)
Robert Hayes agreed to meet Clara at a private club.
He chose a table in the corner.
Clara chose the chair facing the door.
“You always were cautious,” he said.
“You always pretended caution was paranoia.”
He smiled.
“Charles said that too.”
“Until he stopped trusting you.”
Robert’s expression changed.
Clara placed a folder on the table.
“Rebecca.”
He did not touch it.
“What about her?”
“I know.”
“Know what?”
“Daniel caused the crash.”
Robert leaned back.
“I wondered when he’d finally tell you.”
“You took three million dollars.”
“It was compensation.”
“For Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“How much did you spend on her?”
His jaw tightened.
“That is none of your business.”
“You used settlement money to start your development company.”
“I rebuilt my family.”
“You profited from your daughter’s injury.”
Robert leaned forward.
“Be careful.”
Clara’s voice remained calm.
“What happened to Rebecca?”
“She suffered.”
“And?”
“She died.”
“How?”
“Complications.”
“What kind?”
Robert looked away.
“You don’t get to interrogate me about my child.”
“My brother carries responsibility for what happened.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Robert stared at her.
“You really want truth?”
“Yes.”
“Your father destroyed her twice.”
Clara said nothing.
“He covered up the crash,” Robert continued. “Not to protect Daniel.”
“Then why?”
“To protect you.”
Clara remembered Daniel’s words.
If the truth came out, you would lose everything.
“What did I have to do with it?”
Robert smiled without warmth.
“Ask yourself why Charles had a private neurologist waiting at the hospital before I arrived.”
Clara frowned.
“Rebecca had head trauma.”
“Not for Rebecca.”
Cold moved through Clara’s body.
Robert watched her carefully.
“Your father was already paying that doctor.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
Clara’s pulse hammered.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“I wasn’t even in Dallas.”
“No. You were in Boston.”
She stood.
Robert said, “Sit down.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“You asked for truth.”
“I asked about Rebecca.”
“And Rebecca discovered something.”
Clara remained standing.
“What?”
Robert looked around the club.
Then lowered his voice.
“She woke up after surgery and asked why the woman in the photograph looked exactly like her.”
Clara stared.
“What photograph?”
“One Daniel had inside the car.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It was a photograph of you.”
Clara’s throat tightened.
“Rebecca looked nothing like me.”
Robert’s expression became strange.
“You’re sure?”
Clara thought of the only photograph she had seen.
A blurry school image Adrian had found that morning.
Rebecca’s hair lighter.
Face turned partly away.
Robert removed an envelope from his jacket.
He slid it across the table.
Clara did not move.
“What is that?”
“Something Charles paid me never to show you.”
She opened it.
Inside was an old photograph.
Two young women.
Clara recognized herself immediately.
Twenty-one years old.
Standing outside a Boston apartment.
The second woman stood thirty feet behind her.
Clara looked closer.
Same height.
Same dark eyes.
Same nose.
Same face.
Almost.
The photograph slipped from her fingers.
“Who is that?”
Robert whispered.
“Rebecca.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“She was your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And she looked like me?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked up.
“Why?”
Robert leaned closer.
“Because Rebecca Hayes was not born Rebecca Hayes.”
Clara could barely breathe.
“Who was she?”
Robert’s eyes did not leave hers.
“That is the question your father paid three million dollars to bury.”
Clara stared at him.
“Tell me.”
Robert shook his head.
“No.”
“You brought me here.”
“I brought you here to make a deal.”
“What deal?”
“You stop investigating the amendments.”
“Why?”
“And I give you the rest.”
“The rest of what?”
“The truth about Rebecca.”
Clara stood.
Robert said, “You walk away now, you may never know.”
She looked down at him.
“You made the same mistake your daughter made.”
“What mistake?”
“You assumed I need permission to find the truth.”
Robert’s expression hardened.
Clara picked up the photograph.
“I’m keeping this.”
“No.”
“You can sue me.”
She turned.
Robert spoke behind her.
“Clara.”
She stopped.
“If you open that door, you won’t only destroy Victoria.”
May you like
Clara looked over her shoulder.
“You’ll destroy Daniel.”
