Chapter 7 - The Glass Nobody Was Supposed to Test)
The sedative was not enough to kill Claire.
That fact did not comfort anyone.
According to the preliminary report, the quantity could have caused disorientation, weakness, confusion, and impaired judgment.
Exactly the kind of behavior that witnesses might later describe as unstable.
Claire sat in Edward's study listening to Samuel explain.
"They may claim it was accidental contamination."
"From what?"
Samuel paused.
"Margaret has a prescription for the medication."
Claire laughed bitterly.
"Convenient."
Edward stood near the fireplace.
"Police will handle it."
Claire looked at him.
"No."
He frowned.
"No?"
"I don't want everyone handling everything for me anymore."
"Claire."
"That's how I got here."
Edward stopped.
She continued.
"Daniel handled the accounts. Margaret handled the dinners. You handled the trust. Mom handled the vault. Harold handled the secrets."
Her voice shook.
"Everyone made decisions around me."
Edward sat.
"You're right."
Claire was not prepared for immediate agreement.
He continued.
"So tell me what you want."
Claire thought.
"I want to open the Blue Room."
"Tomorrow morning."
"I want copies of every financial document connected to my trust."
Samuel nodded.
"You'll have them."
"I want a separate attorney."
Edward looked surprised.
"Separate from Samuel?"
"Yes."
Samuel smiled slightly.
"Good."
Claire looked at him.
"You're not offended?"
"Claire, the first thing a competent attorney should tell you is to have independent counsel when family interests overlap."
Edward nodded.
"I'll give you names."
"No."
Claire looked at Rachel.
"Rachel will give me names."
Rachel blinked.
"Me?"
"You work with financial attorneys."
"Yes."
"Find me someone who has never represented my father or the Morgans."
Rachel nodded.
"I will."
Claire looked at Edward.
"And tomorrow we open the vault."
At 9:12 the following morning, Claire stood inside First Commonwealth Bank with Rachel and attorney Rebecca Sloan, a sharp-eyed woman in her forties recommended by three separate forensic accountants.
Edward waited outside the secure area at Claire's request.
For once, he did not argue.
A bank manager led them down two flights of stairs.
The vault door was enormous.
Claire almost laughed at the absurdity.
"My grandmother really used this place?"
The manager smiled.
"Mrs. Vale was one of our earliest private clients."
They entered a smaller room.
Box 417.
The manager used one key.
Claire used the brass key from the blue envelope.
The lock opened.
Inside was a metal container nearly three feet long.
Claire stared at it.
"That's not a normal safe deposit box."
"No," the manager said. "It's a legacy vault compartment."
He left them alone.
Claire lifted the lid.
Blue envelopes.
Dozens.
Each labeled by year.
1998.
1999.
2000.
2001.
Then names.
Vale Family Trust.
Morgan Development.
Northbridge.
Claire touched the final envelope.
It was labeled:
For Claire only.
Her hands trembled.
Rachel whispered, "Open that one first."
Claire did.
Inside was a letter from her mother.
Not a copy.
Original handwriting.
Claire sat down.
My darling Claire,
If you are reading this, then either Harold succeeded in doing the right thing or Margaret finally forced the truth into daylight.
Claire stopped.
Her mother had known.
She continued.
I need you to understand something before you read anything else in this vault.
Your marriage may contain real love. I cannot know Daniel's heart.
But I do know how it began.
Margaret Morgan arranged your first meeting.
Claire closed her eyes.
The words still hurt even though Harold's letter had warned her.
Her mother explained that she discovered emails between Margaret and an event coordinator.
Daniel had asked for information about Claire's schedule.
He knew about the inheritance.
He knew about the trust.
He knew Claire's mother was ill.
Rachel touched Claire's shoulder.
Claire kept reading.
If Daniel eventually loved you, that is something only he can answer.
But please do not confuse a feeling that grew later with honesty at the beginning.
Then came the financial evidence.
Harold had copied ledgers showing decades of hidden losses.
Margaret used shell companies to conceal debt.
Daniel became involved after college.
At first, small transfers.
Then larger ones.
Claire opened the Northbridge envelope.
Inside were incorporation documents.
The beneficiary of Northbridge Holdings was not hidden here.
Claire read the name.
Her stomach dropped.
Rachel leaned closer.
"What?"
Claire handed her the page.
Rachel read it.
"No."
The beneficiary was not Daniel.
Not Margaret.
Not any Morgan.
The beneficiary was Rebecca Morgan.
Daniel's younger sister.
A woman Claire had been told died fifteen years ago.
Rachel whispered.
"Daniel told me Rebecca died when she was seventeen."
Claire nodded.
Car accident.
That was the story.
There were photographs in the envelope.
A woman on a beach.
A woman entering an apartment building.
A woman holding a child.
Dates from only three years earlier.
Claire's pulse raced.
"She's alive."
Rachel turned another page.
A bank account.
Eight million dollars.
Transferred through Northbridge.
May you like
Rebecca Morgan was alive.
And someone in the family had spent fifteen years pretending she was dead.
