Chapter 6 - The Name That Shouldn’t Exist
The third report carried one name.
Miguel Reyes.
Daniela stopped breathing.
Her father had been dead for five years.
“No.”
The word barely left her mouth.
Martin looked from the screen to Daniela.
Vanessa stepped backward.
Evan said nothing.
Only Adrian seemed unsurprised.
Daniela noticed.
She turned slowly toward him.
“You knew.”
Adrian's eyes were fixed on the floor.
“You knew that name would be there.”
“I knew there was a report.”
“My father's report?”
“Yes.”
Daniela crossed the room.
“When?”
“Daniela—”
“When did you know?”
“Fourteen months ago.”
Her hand tightened around the edge of the table.
Fourteen months.
The same period when Adrian had supposedly been preparing to leave her.
The same separation timeline.
The same hidden assets.
The same mysterious “condition” Celeste had been waiting for.
Daniela looked at the laboratory document again.
Miguel Reyes.
The date beside his name was impossible.
March 17.
This year.
Five years after Daniela had buried him.
“This is fake.”
Martin enlarged the page.
“It may be.”
“It has to be.”
Adrian finally looked at her.
“That's what I thought.”
Daniela laughed bitterly.
“You don't get to stand there pretending we're equally confused.”
“I’m not.”
“Then explain.”
Adrian walked toward the window.
For several seconds he seemed unable to find the words.
“When I found the report in Mom's office, I confronted her.”
“And?”
“She told me it wasn't what it looked like.”
“Apparently that's the family motto.”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
Adrian continued.
“She said your father had been involved with Vale Development before you and I met.”
Daniela stared at him.
“My father was a high-school principal.”
“I know.”
“He had nothing to do with real estate.”
“That's what I told her.”
“What did she say?”
“That Miguel Reyes wasn't involved as an investor.”
Daniela waited.
Adrian swallowed.
“He was involved because of the land.”
“What land?”
“The Harbor project.”
The room went silent.
Daniela shook her head.
“No.”
“The original waterfront parcel belonged to a holding company.”
“So?”
“Your father was connected to it.”
“He wasn't.”
“Daniela, I saw the records.”
“My father didn't own commercial property.”
“Not directly.”
Martin looked up.
“Which holding company?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Northstar Civic Holdings.”
Evan's head snapped up.
“I know that name.”
Everyone turned.
Daniela stared at him.
“From where?”
Evan approached the laptop.
“Your father's estate.”
Daniela felt cold.
“You handled his estate.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I never knew Northstar was connected to Vale Development.”
“What was Northstar?”
“A small holding entity. Your father had a minority interest.”
Daniela shook her head.
“No. I went through everything after he died.”
“You went through the assets transferred directly to you.”
“What does that mean?”
Evan's expression tightened.
“Your father placed his Northstar interest into a trust.”
Daniela stared.
“What trust?”
“I didn't administer it.”
“You were his accountant.”
“For personal taxes. Not everything.”
“Who did?”
“I don't know.”
Daniela turned to Martin.
“Can we find out?”
“Yes.”
“How fast?”
“If the records are accessible, quickly.”
Martin began typing.
Daniela looked back at the laboratory report.
None of this explained why her dead father's name appeared on a medical test dated this year.
“What kind of test is this?”
Martin stopped.
He had avoided answering earlier.
Now there was nowhere left to hide.
“The code appears to relate to genetic relationship testing.”
Daniela stared.
“Genetic?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes moved to Rachel's report.
Then her own.
Then Miguel's.
Three people.
Three reports.
Same laboratory.
Same corporate account.
Daniela felt the first real wave of fear.
“Relationship between whom?”
“The pages don't say.”
Adrian whispered, “That's why I went to the laboratory.”
Daniela turned.
“Celeste said you went twice.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“The first time I wanted to know whether the documents were genuine.”
“And the second?”
Adrian hesitated.
“I submitted my own sample.”
Silence.
Daniela stared at him.
“For what?”
“To compare it.”
“With whose?”
“Your father's.”
Daniela stepped backward.
Nothing made sense.
“Why would you compare yourself to my father?”
“I didn't request that comparison.”
“Then who did?”
“My mother.”
Vanessa whispered, “Adrian…”
He ignored her.
Daniela felt anger returning.
Clean.
Sharp.
Useful.
“You walked into a laboratory and gave them a genetic sample because your mother asked?”
“No. She didn't ask. The lab already had an order.”
“Under whose authorization?”
“I thought hers.”
“You thought?”
“I was trying to understand what she was hiding.”
Daniela laughed.
“You could have tried telling your wife.”
“I should have.”
“That sentence is getting old.”
“I know.”
Daniela looked at Martin.
“Can we get the actual laboratory records?”
“Possibly, but because these involve private medical information, we need to proceed carefully.”
“My name is on one of them.”
“That helps for your own record. Not necessarily the others.”
Daniela stared at her father's name.
“He's dead.”
Martin nodded.
“Which makes the date itself something we need to verify.”
Evan suddenly spoke.
“What if it isn't the date of collection?”
Martin looked closer.
“It may be the report date.”
Daniela turned.
“So the sample could be older?”
“Yes.”
“How old?”
“We don't know.”
A memory surfaced.
Daniela's father in a hospital room six years earlier.
Routine surgery.
Blood tests.
Medical forms.
Samples.
Could something have been stored?
She hated even thinking about it.
“Why would Celeste have access to any of this?”
Nobody answered.
Daniela looked at Adrian.
“You know more.”
He shook his head.
“You always know just enough to be frightened and never enough to be responsible.”
“That isn't fair.”
She stared at him.
Adrian almost laughed at himself.
“You're right. Forget I said that.”
Martin's laptop chimed.
“I found Northstar.”
He turned the screen.
Northstar Civic Holdings had been dissolved four years earlier.
Its filings showed three historical stakeholders.
One corporate entity.
One investment partnership.
And Miguel Reyes.
Daniela leaned closer.
“How much did he own?”
“Twelve percent.”
“What happened to it?”
Martin scrolled.
“According to this, the interest transferred before dissolution.”
“To whom?”
He opened another filing.
Then stopped.
Daniela saw his expression.
“Martin.”
“The recipient was Ridgepoint Holdings.”
Nobody spoke.
Celeste's company.
Daniela stared at the screen.
“My father's interest ended up with Celeste?”
“On paper, yes.”
“When?”
Martin checked.
“Eight months after his death.”
Daniela's skin went cold.
“How?”
Evan moved closer.
“There would need to be transfer authority.”
“From the estate?”
“Or the trust.”
Daniela looked at him.
“You said you didn't administer the trust.”
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
Evan shook his head.
“I genuinely don't know.”
Adrian said quietly, “I do.”
Daniela turned.
He reached into the wooden box.
Underneath the photographs was the small key.
Adrian picked it up.
“My mother kept this in the box.”
“What does it open?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where?”
“First Meridian Bank.”
Martin frowned.
“Whose name?”
Adrian looked at Daniela.
“Your father's.”
The room seemed to contract around her.
“That account should have been closed.”
“It wasn't.”
“How do you know?”
“I followed Mom there.”
Daniela stared.
“When?”
“March seventeenth.”
There it was again.
The date.
“What did she take?”
“I don't know.”
“You followed her but didn't see?”
“She went into the private vault.”
“And then?”
“She came out carrying this box.”
Adrian touched the walnut lid.
Daniela looked at it differently now.
Not a copy of her father's box.
Possibly something that had actually belonged to him.
“Why did you think it was mine?”
“Because I'd seen yours at home.”
“Did Celeste know there were two?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Daniela was tired of those words.
She opened the box fully and removed the photographs.
There were six.
The first showed her father.
Miguel looked younger.
Maybe fifty.
He stood outside a brick commercial building beside several men.
Daniela recognized one immediately.
Adrian's late father, Richard Vale.
Her breath caught.
“Our fathers knew each other.”
Adrian nodded.
“I found that out fourteen months ago.”
The second photograph showed Miguel and Richard shaking hands.
The third showed them at a construction site.
The fourth included Celeste.
Much younger.
Standing between them.
Daniela stared at her mother-in-law's face.
“Celeste knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“She never told me.”
“No.”
Daniela remembered every family dinner.
Every holiday.
Every conversation about parents.
Celeste had once sat beside Daniela and listened as she described Miguel's death.
She had squeezed Daniela's hand.
She had said:
I wish I could have met him.
Daniela felt sick.
“She lied to my face.”
Adrian said nothing.
The fifth photograph showed Miguel holding the wooden box.
The sixth was different.
Taken outside a hospital.
Miguel stood beside a woman Daniela did not recognize.
On the back, someone had written a date.
Twenty-eight years earlier.
And one name.
Rachel.
Daniela stared.
“Rachel Mercer?”
Vanessa came closer.
“It could be.”
Daniela turned the photograph over again.
Twenty-eight years.
Rachel Mercer had been the woman Vanessa saw Adrian meeting outside a hotel.
“What does she have to do with my father?”
Adrian's face tightened.
“I don't know.”
Daniela gave him a look.
“Stop.”
“I swear.”
“Then why were you seeing her?”
He looked away.
Daniela's voice became quieter.
“Were you having an affair?”
“No.”
Vanessa frowned.
“I saw you leaving a hotel together.”
“We weren't sleeping together.”
“Then why were you there?”
Adrian rubbed both hands over his face.
“Rachel contacted me.”
“When?”
“About two years ago.”
“Why?”
“She knew about Harbor.”
“How?”
“She said her family had been involved in the original land arrangement.”
Daniela looked at the photograph.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why meet secretly?”
“Because she asked me not to tell you.”
Daniela laughed in disbelief.
“And that seemed reasonable?”
“No.”
“But you did it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Because Rachel told me your father hadn't died the way you thought.”
The room went silent.
Daniela's voice barely worked.
“My father had a heart attack.”
“That is what the death certificate says.”
“What did Rachel say?”
“She said he'd discovered something about the Harbor land shortly before he died.”
“What?”
“She wouldn't tell me unless I helped her get access to old Vale Development files.”
“So you helped her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because by then I had discovered Mom was hiding things from me too.”
Daniela stared at him.
Every answer opened another door.
Behind every door was another lie.
“What did Rachel find?”
“A payment.”
“To whom?”
“Your father.”
Daniela frowned.
“For his Northstar shares?”
“No.”
“What then?”
Adrian looked toward the photograph.
“A settlement.”
Martin leaned forward.
“From Vale Development?”
“From a predecessor company.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred thousand dollars.”
Daniela shook her head.
“My father never had that kind of money.”
“He never deposited it.”
“Then where did it go?”
“No one knows.”
Evan suddenly looked uneasy.
Daniela noticed.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Evan.”
He hesitated.
“I remember an account.”
“What account?”
“After your father died, there was a dormant account listed in one of his older tax files. It wasn't included in the estate because the balance was zero.”
“What bank?”
“First Meridian.”
Daniela looked at the small key.
Nobody spoke.
Martin reached for his phone.
“We need to determine whether that safe-deposit box still exists and whether Daniela has lawful access through the estate or trust.”
Adrian handed Daniela the key.
“For what it's worth, I think Mom wanted me to destroy it.”
Daniela took it.
“Why didn't you?”
Adrian looked at her for a long moment.
“Because by then I knew I wasn't going to leave you.”
She almost looked away.
Instead, she held his gaze.
“Don't turn that into something romantic.”
“I'm not.”
“You were hiding money.”
“Yes.”
“You were preparing for divorce.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe your mother didn't know my father.”
“Yes.”
“And now you want credit because somewhere in the middle of all that, you changed your mind?”
“No.”
His answer surprised her.
Adrian's eyes were wet.
“I don't deserve credit for anything.”
For the first time all evening, Daniela believed him completely.
Martin closed the laptop.
“We go to the bank tomorrow morning.”
Daniela looked at the key.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
“I go tonight.”
“The bank is closed.”
“Then we find someone who can confirm whether the box exists.”
Martin shook his head.
“Daniela, rushing won't help.”
“My father has been dead five years. My mother-in-law has apparently been opening a box in his name. I'm done waiting.”
Her phone vibrated.
A new message.
Unknown number.
Daniela opened it.
One photograph.
It showed the entrance of First Meridian Bank.
Taken tonight.
Then another photograph arrived.
A woman was walking toward a black car.
Daniela enlarged it.
Celeste.
In her hand was a document envelope.
The next message contained only an address.
Vanessa looked over Daniela's shoulder.
“I know that place.”
“What is it?”
“Ridgepoint owns a condo there.”
Adrian went pale.
Daniela noticed immediately.
“What?”
He stared at the address.
“That's where Rachel lives.”
Daniela looked at him.
“You know her home address?”
“I drove her there once.”
Martin stood.
“Nobody goes anywhere until we understand what we're dealing with.”
Daniela's phone vibrated again.
This time it was a video.
Six seconds.
Celeste entering the building.
The timestamp showed nine minutes ago.
Another message appeared beneath it.
IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH ABOUT MIGUEL REYES, COME BEFORE CELESTE LEAVES.
Daniela stared at the screen.
“Who is sending these?”
No one knew.
Then Adrian's phone rang.
He looked at the caller ID.
His face went white.
“Rachel.”
“Answer it,” Daniela said.
He did.
“Rachel?”
Nothing.
“Rachel, can you hear me?”
A faint sound came through the speaker.
Then a woman's voice.
“Adrian, your mother is here.”
Daniela stepped closer.
Rachel continued.
“She brought the original trust documents.”
Martin's head snapped up.
“Put her on speaker.”
Adrian did.
Daniela spoke.
“Rachel, this is Daniela.”
Silence.
Then Rachel whispered, “I know.”
Daniela tightened her grip on the key.
“Why is my father's name on your laboratory report?”
Rachel stopped breathing for a second.
When she answered, her voice trembled.
“Daniela, there is something Miguel made me promise never to tell you unless Celeste tried to take the trust.”
“What?”
A noise sounded on Rachel's end.
A door opening.
Rachel whispered, “She's coming back.”
Then the call disconnected.
Daniela immediately dialed again.
No answer.
Once.
Twice.
Nothing.
Then a text arrived from Rachel.
One sentence.
YOUR FATHER LEFT THE TRUST TO TWO DAUGHTERS.
Daniela stared at the words.
Her father had only one daughter.
Her.
Another message began appearing.
The typing indicator flashed.
Stopped.
Returned.
Then Rachel sent a photograph.
It showed an old birth certificate.
Daniela enlarged it.
Miguel Reyes was listed on one line.
May you like
Rachel Mercer on another.
And beneath them was the name of a daughter Daniela had never known existed.
