Chapter 12 - Evelyn Comes Home
Evelyn returned to the mansion at 6:14 P.M.
No disguise.
No attempt to run.
She drove through the front gate and walked into her own house carrying a cream handbag.
State officers arrested her in the foyer.
She did not resist.
When Lena asked where Nathan was, Evelyn smiled.
When asked about Reed Dalton, she requested water.
When asked about Clara’s injuries, she said:
“She has always bruised easily.”
Danielle watched through glass as Evelyn sat in the interview room.
Perfect posture.
Perfect hair.
Even in custody she looked like she was hosting dinner.
Danielle entered.
Evelyn glanced up.
“Pink suited you better.”
Danielle sat.
“Marcus says you’re destroying Marrow.”
“Marcus says many things when frightened.”
“Is he your son?”
Evelyn smiled.
“Arthur has become imaginative.”
“Marcus said Arthur isn’t his biological father.”
Evelyn’s smile faded.
Only slightly.
Danielle caught it.
“So it’s true.”
“What difference would it make?”
“To Arthur?”
“Arthur worships bloodlines because he has nothing else.”
Danielle leaned forward.
“Who is Marcus’s father?”
“Ask Marcus.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Then perhaps ignorance is merciful.”
“What about Jonathan?”
Evelyn’s gaze sharpened.
“Jonathan is dead.”
“I saw his photograph.”
“Photographs lie.”
“Clara met him.”
“Clara believes many things.”
“He knew details only Jonathan could know.”
“Memory can be transferred.”
Danielle stopped.
Evelyn smiled.
There it was.
Janus.
Danielle asked quietly, “What did your father-in-law do to those children?”
Evelyn’s eyes became cold.
“My father-in-law saved this family.”
“With experiments?”
“With foresight.”
“On his grandchildren?”
“Do not pretend morality and power have ever been friends.”
Danielle felt disgust.
“You’re proud of it.”
“I’m realistic.”
“Did you try to kill Jonathan?”
Evelyn looked away for the first time.
“No.”
Danielle had expected denial.
The way she said it sounded different.
Truthful.
“Then what happened?”
“I tried to take him away.”
“From Janus?”
“Yes.”
Danielle stared.
That did not fit.
Evelyn continued.
“Richard Vance selected Jonathan when he was six.”
“Arthur knew?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
“He was too young.”
“What did Janus do?”
“Early phases focused on memory association and obedience. Richard believed financial dynasties failed because heirs became weak.”
Danielle’s stomach turned.
“He tortured children to create better heirs.”
“He called it resilience.”
“What did you call it?”
Evelyn looked toward the glass.
“Hell.”
Danielle had not expected that.
“Then why continue it?”
“I didn’t.”
“You’re called the Custodian.”
Evelyn’s face changed.
“Who told you that?”
“Nathan.”
A flicker of fear.
Real fear.
Evelyn leaned closer.
“If Nathan used that name, he knows more than he should.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop lying.”
“I am not lying.”
“Why attack Clara?”
“Because she stole something.”
“What?”
“The recovery ledger.”
Danielle frowned.
“What is that?”
“A list of children removed from Janus before Richard could finish.”
“How many?”
Evelyn said nothing.
“How many?”
“Thirty-two.”
Danielle stared.
“Jonathan?”
“Yes.”
“Marcus?”
“No.”
“But Marcus said—”
“Marcus underwent therapy later. Not the original program.”
“Who removed the children?”
Evelyn’s jaw tightened.
“Thomas Reid.”
Danielle felt the familiar shock.
Thomas again.
“Was Thomas part of Janus?”
“He designed parts of the cognitive mapping system.”
“And later rescued the children?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Guilt.”
“Where did he take them?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did Clara steal?”
“The names.”
Danielle’s pulse increased.
“From where?”
“My private archive.”
“Why did you have it?”
“Because after Richard died, someone had to make sure those people remained hidden.”
“You expect me to believe you were protecting them?”
“Yes.”
Danielle almost laughed.
Evelyn continued.
“Some of the people hunting those children now sit in governments. Some run banks. Some fund elections. Some control security firms.”
“The network.”
“Yes.”
“Did Marcus work for them?”
“Marcus worked for himself.”
“Did Nathan?”
Evelyn’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
“Reed?”
“Yes.”
“Jonathan?”
Silence.
Danielle leaned forward.
“Jonathan?”
Evelyn whispered, “I don’t know.”
Danielle’s phone vibrated.
A message from Lena outside.
Emergency.
Danielle stood.
Evelyn suddenly said, “Danielle.”
She stopped.
Evelyn’s expression had changed.
No cruelty now.
Only fear.
“If Clara really found the recovery ledger, do not let Arthur see it.”
Danielle stared.
“Why?”
Evelyn looked toward the observation window.
Then back.
“Because one of the thirty-two children was his.”
Danielle frowned.
“Jonathan.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
Danielle felt her skin go cold.
May you like
Evelyn whispered:
“A daughter.”
