Chapter 7
I ran to Lily’s room.
She was on the floor with crayons spread around her.
Her pink backpack sat beside the bed.
I grabbed it so fast she looked startled.
“Mommy?”
“It’s okay.”
My hands shook as I opened every pocket.
Crayons.
A hairbrush.
A tiny toy ring.
Then I found the envelope.
No name.
No stamp.
Inside was a photo.
Me.
Pregnant.
Walking out of my old clinic five years ago.
Taken from across the street.
My stomach turned.
There were more.
Noah and Lily as babies in a stroller.
Me at the playground.
Me carrying groceries.
The twins outside preschool.
Victoria had not discovered them six months ago.
She had watched us for years.
At the bottom of the envelope was one sentence.
He was never the only one who knew.
I sat on the floor.
The room tilted.
Richard came running in with Daniel behind him.
He took one look at the photos and went still.
“No.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“This predates Victoria.”
I looked up.
“What does that mean?”
Richard stared at the earliest photo.
His voice was barely audible.
“My mother.”
The next hour revealed a horror I had not imagined.
Richard’s mother, Evelyn Blackwell, had died two years earlier.
But before that, she had controlled the family trust like a queen.
She had hated me more quietly than Richard had.
She smiled at lunches.
Sent birthday cards.
Asked about my health.
And apparently, she had hired a private investigator when I disappeared after the divorce.
She knew I was pregnant.
She knew about the twins.
She never told Richard.
I turned toward him.
“Did she know?”
Richard looked shattered.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
I believed him.
That almost made it worse.
Daniel tracked the investigator through old payments.
His name was Miles Grant.
Retired.
Living in Arizona.
When Daniel called, the man hung up.
When Richard called, he answered.
Money still opened doors.
Fear opened them faster.
Miles agreed to speak only if protected.
We flew to Phoenix the next day with guards and a court investigator.
I hated leaving the twins.
But Dad came to stay with them, and Lily made me promise to bring back a souvenir.
Miles met us in a diner off the highway.
He looked old, nervous, and guilty.
“I was hired by Evelyn Blackwell,” he said.
“To locate Sarah Mitchell after the divorce.”
Richard leaned forward.
“You knew she was pregnant?”
“I photographed her leaving the clinic.”
“And you told my mother?”
“Yes.”
My nails dug into my palms.
“What did she say?”
Miles swallowed.
“She said the children were a complication.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
Miles looked at him.
“Because she believed Sarah would use them to regain status.”
I almost laughed.
Status.
I had been buying diapers with coupons while Evelyn protected status.
Miles pulled a flash drive from his pocket.
“I kept copies.”
Daniel took it.
“Why?”
“Because Mrs. Blackwell scared me.”
“What else is on it?” I asked.
Miles would not meet my eyes.
“Audio.”
Richard went still.
“Of what?”
“Evelyn meeting Victoria.”
The diner noise faded.
“When?” Daniel asked.
“Three years ago.”
Three years.
Before Victoria married Richard.
Before the restaurant.
Before all of this.
Miles whispered, “Your mother chose her.”
May you like
Richard looked like he had stopped breathing.
“She trained her.”
