Chapter 6 - The Woman Missing From Every Photograph
Margaret returned to the terrace holding the silent telephone.
Antoine knew something had happened before she spoke.
“Who called?”
“A man.”
“What did he say?”
Margaret studied him.
“He told me to ask about your mother.”
For the first time since arriving, Antoine lost control of his expression.
It lasted less than a second.
Then his features hardened.
“My mother has nothing to do with this.”
“That is not what the caller implied.”
Philippe looked interested now.
“Perhaps our guest has not been entirely honest.”
Antoine gathered the documents.
“You should not trust anonymous voices.”
“You arrived anonymously,” Claire said.
“I gave you my name.”
“You gave us a name. We have no proof it is yours.”
Antoine looked at her with faint approval.
“That is a fair observation.”
He removed his passport and placed it on the table.
Antoine Julien Moreau.
Born in Lyon.
The photograph matched him.
Margaret read the date of birth.
He was thirty-nine.
Older than Luca.
“Who was your mother?”
“Her name was Sophie Laurent.”
Margaret searched her memory.
The name meant nothing.
“Was she with Julien before me?”
“No.”
“After?”
Antoine hesitated.
“During.”
The answer struck harder than Margaret expected.
Julien had become frozen in her memory as the love taken from her before betrayal or disappointment could touch him.
Now that image cracked.
Antoine continued.
“My mother worked as a nurse at the facility where my father was held after the staged accident. She helped him escape the first time.”
“You were born five years before Luca,” Claire said.
“Yes.”
“Then Julien had a child before he met Margaret.”
“Yes.”
Margaret turned toward the lake.
She had no right to feel betrayed by a man she had believed dead for thirty-four years.
Yet she did.
“Did he tell you about Antoine?” she asked Hélène.
Hélène shook her head.
“I never knew.”
Philippe said nothing.
Antoine noticed.
“You knew.”
Philippe walked toward the table.
“I knew there was another child. I did not know his identity.”
“How?”
“My father mentioned a woman at the clinic.”
Antoine’s voice became colder.
“My mother disappeared in 1994.”
Margaret remembered the caller’s warning.
“What happened?”
“My father believed she was killed.”
“By Étienne?”
“He never proved it.”
Philippe’s expression remained unreadable.
Antoine turned toward him.
“Would you like to tell them?”
“I have nothing to tell.”
“My father left a statement claiming your family arranged her disappearance.”
“Your father blamed my family for every tragedy in his life.”
“Most tragedies in his life led directly to your family.”
Luca stood between them.
“This cannot continue as accusations and fragments. We need evidence.”
Antoine nodded toward the sealed packet.
“The evidence is there.”
Margaret looked at it.
The packet seemed to hold every answer and perhaps enough damage to destroy them all.
“Why did the caller warn me not to open it?”
“Because disclosure activates the trust review,” Antoine said.
Philippe looked sharply at him.
“You failed to mention that.”
“I was waiting until everyone named in the agreement was present.”
“We are present,” Luca said.
Antoine shook his head.
“Not everyone.”
Hélène frowned.
“The agreement names Margaret, Philippe, me, and the child.”
“The visible agreement does.”
“What does that mean?”
Antoine looked toward the driveway.
“The confidential attachment names another witness.”
Headlights appeared between the trees.
A black sedan moved slowly toward the lake house.
Philippe whispered something in French.
Margaret heard it clearly.
“This is impossible.”
The sedan stopped.
The rear door opened.
An elderly woman stepped out with the assistance of a cane.
She wore a dark blue dress and a white scarf around her silver hair.
Margaret had seen her only once before.
At Julien’s funeral.
Standing beside the grave.
Julien’s mother, Élodie Moreau.
Antoine walked down the steps to meet her.
Margaret remained motionless.
Élodie approached the terrace and looked at Margaret for a long time.
There was no warmth in her face.
“You,” Élodie said in French, “are the reason my son lost everything.”
Margaret absorbed the accusation.
Then Élodie turned toward Philippe.
“And you are the reason he is dead.”
Philippe stepped backward.
Élodie reached into her handbag and removed a small digital recorder.
“Julien made one final confession,” she said. “But before you hear it, someone at this table must admit why Claire Bennett was chosen.”
Claire stared at her.
“Chosen for what?”
May you like
Élodie looked directly at Hélène.
“To marry Luca.”
