Chapter 10 - The Other Daughter)
Facial analysis found small differences around the jaw and ears. The woman was not wearing a mask. She was likely a close relative.
Charlotte had grown up an only child.
Evelyn, now cooperating with investigators under a provisional agreement, watched the footage twice. “Your mother was pregnant when Daniel disappeared.”
“With me.”
“No. You were eight.”
The room seemed to contract.
Evelyn explained that Charlotte’s mother had left New York for five months after the staged accident. She returned ill and refused to discuss where she had been. Eleanor told everyone grief had caused a breakdown.
“You think she had another child.”
“I think Eleanor paid a private clinic in Vermont, then made annual transfers to a family in Quebec.”
Samuel traced the family. Their adopted daughter, Lily Caron, was twenty-seven, two years younger than Charlotte. Her birth certificate listed no biological parents. She had vanished from Montreal six months earlier.
Six months earlier was when Charlotte secretly began preparing to leave Jonathan.
Claire remembered seeing a woman in the penthouse lobby who looked like Charlotte from behind. Jonathan had called her a designer. Building records identified the visitor as L. Reed.
Charlotte drove to the address on Lily’s identification, a studio above a closed tailor shop in Brooklyn. The apartment was empty except for a mattress, a mirror, and walls covered with photographs of Charlotte.
Some came from magazines. Others had been taken through windows.
On a table lay notebooks filled with observations: Charlotte drinks tea at 7:10. Charlotte touches necklace when lying. Charlotte avoids elevators after argument. Jonathan prefers burgundy.
Claire opened a closet. Inside hung duplicates of Charlotte’s clothes.
“She studied you,” Claire whispered.
Charlotte found a photograph of her mother holding two infants. On the back, in Eleanor’s handwriting, were the words Charlotte and Lillian, together once.
Her knees weakened.
A video camera on the table blinked red.
The television switched on by itself. A woman appeared live, seated in darkness. She had Charlotte’s eyes.
“Hello, sister,” Lily said.
Charlotte stepped toward the screen. “Where are you?”
“Somewhere Father can keep me safe.”
“Did you steal the board packet?”
“Jonathan asked for proof you controlled Halcyon. He promised that after he exposed you, there would finally be room for me.”
Claire muttered, “He used you.”
Lily’s expression sharpened. “You do not get to speak. You had twenty years beside her and sold them for invoices.”
“She’s right,” Claire said softly.
Charlotte held up the photograph. “Why were we separated?”
“Because Eleanor chose the useful granddaughter. You received the name, the estate, the education. I received birthday checks delivered through strangers.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You never had to know. That is what privilege is.”
Charlotte could not deny the pain, only the accusation of intent. “Come in. We can learn the truth together.”
Lily laughed without humor. “You sound like her.”
“Like whom?”
“Our mother, the night she tried to take me back.”
The screen changed to grainy footage of a roadside motel. Charlotte’s mother entered a room. Minutes later, Florence Mercer arrived.
The timestamp was the night Charlotte’s mother died in what police called a single-car accident.
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“Father says Florence killed her,” Lily said. “Florence says Father did. One of them is lying, and the proof is in the Mercer tower scheduled for demolition tomorrow morning.”
The transmission ended.
