Chapter 4 - What Happened After Evelyn’s Funeral
Nathaniel put the phone on speaker.
“Grant.”
Silence.
Then the man laughed softly.
“You always were quicker than Beatrice gave you credit for.”
My stomach tightened.
Nathaniel’s voice remained controlled.
“Where are you?”
“That isn’t important.”
“You entered my house after my wife’s funeral.”
“At your mother’s request.”
“What did you take?”
“Documents that needed reviewing.”
“You told me Evelyn left nothing.”
“I told you there was nothing you needed.”
Nathaniel’s eyes hardened.
“I am getting very tired of people deciding what I need.”
Grant sighed.
“Then let me save you some time. Your wife was preparing to rewrite several parts of her estate. She was emotional. Beatrice believed the changes would expose Theo to unnecessary complications.”
“You mean Clara.”
“I mean strangers.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“I’m sitting right here.”
Grant paused.
“Ms. Delgado.”
“You know who I am.”
“Of course.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
Nathaniel’s jaw clenched.
“What was in the red folder?”
Grant ignored him.
“Clara, I suggest you take your daughter and walk away from this.”
“Why?”
“Because the Reed family has resources you do not understand.”
Nathaniel leaned closer.
“You’re threatening her.”
“No. I’m warning her.”
“About what?”
“The truth.”
The line went dead.
Nathaniel called back.
Disconnected.
For ten seconds he stood motionless.
Then he called the current family attorney, Jordan Pierce.
“Find Grant.”
Jordan hesitated.
“Legally?”
“Obviously.”
“I had to ask.”
“And locate every document he filed, copied or withdrew on Evelyn’s behalf during the last six months of her life.”
“That may take time.”
“Start now.”
Nathaniel hung up.
I looked at him.
“Why would your mother involve a lawyer?”
“To control the estate.”
“She already had money.”
“This was never about needing money.”
“Then what?”
Nathaniel looked toward the portrait of his father on the office wall.
“Reputation.”
Beatrice Reed had married into one of New England’s oldest industrial families.
Nathaniel’s grandfather had built Reed Manufacturing.
His father expanded it.
Nathaniel transformed it into a global technology and logistics company worth billions.
Beatrice had spent her entire adult life protecting the family from embarrassment.
A secret adoption.
A biological sister from a working-class neighborhood.
A multimillion-dollar trust for a community arts center.
None of it was scandalous to me.
To Beatrice, apparently, it was disorder.
Nathaniel looked exhausted.
“I need to speak with her.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“My name is in every document.”
“Grant just threatened you.”
“Which is why I’m not sitting upstairs pretending none of this concerns me.”
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then nodded.
Beatrice lived in the guest estate half a mile from the main house.
She opened the door herself.
“You found Grant.”
Nathaniel stepped inside.
“You knew he would call.”
“I suspected.”
“Where is Evelyn’s box?”
Beatrice’s face remained calm.
“What box?”
“The one you removed after the funeral.”
She turned toward the sitting room.
“Come in.”
I hated how normal she made everything feel.
She poured tea.
Neither of us touched it.
Finally she sat.
“I took the box.”
Nathaniel stared at her.
“Where is it?”
“Gone.”
“What does that mean?”
“I destroyed some things.”
His face tightened.
“What things?”
“Medical notes. Personal journals. Letters.”
“You burned my wife’s letters?”
“I destroyed papers she never intended anyone to read.”
“You don’t know what she intended.”
“She asked me to clean the room if she died.”
“Did she ask you to hide Clara?”
Beatrice looked at me.
“No.”
“Did she ask you to remove the trust amendment?”
“No.”
Nathaniel’s voice lowered.
“Did she ask Grant to alter her estate?”
Beatrice hesitated.
And there it was.
Nathaniel stood.
“What did he alter?”
“I didn’t ask him to forge anything.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Beatrice rose too.
“Grant told me the guardianship declaration could create legal confusion.”
“So?”
“He removed it from the active estate file.”
“You allowed a lawyer to conceal a signed declaration.”
“It was incomplete.”
“You hid it.”
“I protected Theo.”
“From what?”
She finally lost her temper.
“From waking up one day and discovering that his dead mother had handed part of his life to a woman none of us had ever met!”
The words struck the room.
I stood slowly.
“I never asked for your grandson.”
Beatrice’s face changed.
Perhaps she finally heard herself.
I continued.
“I never asked for Evelyn’s money. I never asked to be part of your family. I came here to work.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t. Because from the second you saw my name, you decided I must want something.”
Beatrice looked away.
“My family had people come after us for money before.”
“I’m not people.”
“No.”
Her voice softened slightly.
“You’re Elena Delgado’s daughter.”
Something about the way she said my mother’s name made me stop.
“You knew her.”
Beatrice closed her eyes.
Nathaniel looked at her.
“What?”
She sat again.
“I met Elena once.”
My breath caught.
“When?”
“Thirty-seven years ago.”
Before I was born.
Beatrice stared at her untouched tea.
“Margaret Hart was my college roommate.”
Nathaniel whispered, “Jesus.”
Beatrice continued.
“When she and Charles decided to adopt, she called me. I went with her to the hospital.”
My legs weakened.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“You saw my mother?”
“Yes.”
Seventeen.
Frightened.
Losing her baby.
“What happened?”
Beatrice’s voice became quieter.
“Elena asked Margaret to promise something.”
“What?”
“That Evelyn would learn the dance.”
My eyes filled.
“The lantern dance.”
“Elena didn’t call it that.”
“What did she call it?”
Beatrice looked at me.
“Home.”
I couldn’t speak.
“She said if the baby ever felt alone, Margaret should do the steps with her and tell her someone had loved her before she had a name.”
A tear escaped Beatrice’s eye.
She wiped it away angrily.
“Margaret kept the promise.”
Nathaniel sat beside his mother.
“Why didn’t you tell Evelyn you had been there?”
“Because Margaret asked me not to. She was terrified Evelyn would believe she wasn’t her real mother.”
“And when Evelyn found Clara?”
“I panicked.”
“Because of Margaret?”
“Because everyone who had hidden the truth was dead except me.”
There it was.
Not protection.
Fear.
Beatrice had not been protecting Nathaniel.
She had been protecting herself from judgment.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“What did Grant take?” I asked.
Beatrice’s mouth tightened.
“I don’t know.”
“You were working with him.”
“At first.”
Nathaniel leaned forward.
“At first?”
“Grant told me Evelyn’s proposed changes could be quietly set aside because some documents had not been properly witnessed.”
“And then?”
“He discovered the trust.”
“The twelve million.”
“Yes.”
Beatrice looked genuinely ashamed now.
“He wanted a percentage to make the problem disappear.”
Nathaniel stared at her.
“You hired a criminal.”
“I hired a respected estate attorney.”
“You asked him to conceal documents.”
“I made a terrible decision.”
That was the first honest sentence I had heard from her.
“Where is he now?” Nathaniel asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Does he have originals?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
Beatrice hesitated.
“Evelyn recorded a final statement.”
My heartbeat changed.
Nathaniel stood.
“A video?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Grant took the only copy I knew about.”
“What was in it?”
“I never saw the full recording.”
“But you saw part.”
“Yes.”
Beatrice looked at me.
“She spoke about Clara.”
“What did she say?”
“That Clara was not to be given money directly unless she wanted it.”
I exhaled.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“She knew I wouldn’t want it.”
“She suspected.”
“What else?”
“She wanted Elena House built.”
Nathaniel’s voice hardened.
“What else?”
Beatrice became very still.
“She said she had discovered something about Elena’s adoption records.”
“My mother wasn’t adopted.”
“No.”
Beatrice swallowed.
“Evelyn’s records.”
“What?”
“There were two versions.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“One listed Margaret and Charles Hart as the adoptive parents.”
“And the other?”
Beatrice looked toward me.
“The other had a handwritten notation identifying a second infant.”
I stared at her.
“Second infant?”
She nodded.
“Twins.”
The room tilted.
“No.”
“Evelyn thought she might have had a twin sister.”
I could barely breathe.
“That’s impossible.”
“I don’t know if it was true.”
“Was the other baby my mother’s?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
“No one knew.”
Nathaniel stood beside me.
“Did Evelyn investigate?”
“She was trying.”
My mind raced.
My mother had given birth to Evelyn.
Possibly two babies.
One adopted by the Harts.
Another vanished from the record.
“Why would nobody tell Elena?”
“Perhaps she knew.”
“No.”
I thought of every story my mother had told me.
Every silence.
Every photograph.
Could she have lost two babies?
Nathaniel’s phone buzzed.
Jordan Pierce.
He answered.
“Tell me.”
Jordan spoke loudly enough that I heard part of it.
“We located Hale’s old storage account.”
Nathaniel straightened.
“Where?”
“A private archive in Boston.”
“Do we have access?”
“Not yet.”
“What’s stored there?”
“We got the inventory.”
Nathaniel put the phone on speaker.
Jordan continued.
“Files. Legal records. Two hard drives.”
A pause.
“And one item listed as E.R. Final Recording.”
Nathaniel looked at me.
My heart hammered.
Jordan kept talking.
“But there’s a problem.”
“What?”
“The storage unit was emptied forty minutes ago.”
“By Grant?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Jordan hesitated.
“The security camera caught the driver.”
Nathaniel’s face changed.
“Who?”
Jordan sent the image.
Nathaniel opened it.
I looked over his shoulder.
A woman sat behind the wheel.
Dark hair.
Older.
Thin face.
I had never seen her.
But around her neck hung an oval silver pendant.
May you like
The matching half of my mother’s locket.
And suddenly the missing twin wasn’t missing anymore.
