Chapter 2 - The Secret on the Ledger
The cathedral was empty now.
The flowers remained on the altar.
The white carpet was marked with dirty footprints.
Clara sat alone on a wooden pew.
She held the photograph in her shaking hands.
Nico stood near the open doorway.
The rain fell heavily outside.
Julian sat across the room with his lawyers.
Arthur had already been taken home by his driver.
Clara looked at Nico.
“Why didn’t you come back sooner?”
Nico pulled his wet jacket tighter around his shoulders.
“Arthur told me he would kill Dad in prison if I returned.”
“I was seventeen, Clara.”
“I was terrified.”
Clara wiped a tear from her cheek.
“He made me believe you abandoned us.”
“He paid for my college.”
“He gave me a job at the mill.”
“I thought he was a saint.”
Nico walked down the center aisle.
His boots squeaked on the tile.
“He gave you those things to keep you close.”
“He wanted to make sure you never asked questions.”
Clara pointed at the photograph.
“Why does this say we are siblings?”
Nico took a deep breath.
“Because you are not my biological sister.”
Clara’s heart pounded.
“What?”
“Arthur Vance is your biological father,” Nico said softly.
Clara stood up so fast her veil fell off.
“That’s impossible!”
“My father raised me!”
“He loved me!”
Nico looked down at the floor.
“Dad raised you because Arthur refused to accept an illegitimate child.”
“Arthur was starting his business.”
“A scandal would have destroyed him.”
“So Dad took you in and raised you as his own daughter.”
Clara buried her face in her hands.
She began to cry softly.
Julian stepped forward from the back of the church.
His lawyer tried to hold him back.
Julian ignored him.
He walked up to Clara.
“He is lying to you, Clara!”
“Look at me!”
Clara looked at Julian.
Her eyes were red and swollen.
“Did you know we were related?”
Julian hesitated.
“We aren't married yet, Clara.”
“We can fix this.”
“My father made a mistake years ago.”
“It doesn't change how I feel about you.”
Clara slapped him across the face.
The sound echoed through the high ceiling.
Julian stumbled back, holding his cheek.
“You knew,” Clara whispered.
“You knew the whole time!”
“You let me plan a wedding with my own half-brother!”
Julian’s mouth moved, but no sound came out.
“You wanted the mill shares,” Nico said.
“If Clara married you, Arthur’s secret died.”
“And the entire timber operation stayed under the Vance name.”
Julian looked at Nico with pure venom.
“You ruined everything!”
“We gave her a life!”
“She had nothing!”
Nico took a step toward Julian.
“She had a family until your father destroyed it!”
Julian’s lawyer stepped between them.
“Mr. Vance, we need to leave now.”
“The media is outside.”
Julian looked at Clara one last time.
“You’ll regret this, Clara.”
“Without the Vance family, you have no job, no money, and no future.”
He turned and walked out the heavy doors.
Clara collapsed back onto the wooden pew.
Nico sat beside her.
He placed his arm around her shoulders.
She leaned into him and wept.
“I have nothing left,” she sobbed.
“You have me,” Nico said softly.
“And you have the truth.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old silver pocket watch.
It was scratched and worn.
“Dad wanted you to have this.”
Clara took the watch.
She opened the front cover.
Inside was a tiny picture of her as a baby.
Her father was holding her tightly against his chest.
“He loved you more than anything, Clara.”
“Even when he was in that cell.”
“He wrote to you every week.”
Clara looked up.
“I never received any letters.”
Nico’s jaw tightened.
“Arthur intercepted them.”
“He paid the mail carrier to drop them off at his office instead.”
Clara’s sorrow turned to cold anger.
She stood up.
“Where is Arthur’s office?”
Nico stood beside her.
“At the timber mill.”
“Let’s go get your letters.”
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the old timber mill.
The rain was pouring down.
The large wooden building stood dark against the gray sky.
They walked inside the main office.
The doors were unlocked.
Inside, Arthur Vance sat behind a massive oak desk.
A glass of whiskey sat in front of him.
He looked old and fragile in the dim light.
Clara walked straight to his desk.
“Where are my letters?”
Arthur did not look up.
“I burned them.”
Clara felt a cold knife in her chest.
“All of them?”
Arthur took a sip of his drink.
“A girl doesn't need letters from a dead convict.”
Nico walked around the desk.
He grabbed Arthur by his collar and pulled him up.
“Where are the property deeds, Arthur?”
Arthur laughed weakly.
“You think you can take the mill from me?”
“I own the bank.”
“I own the town.”
“You are just a dirty mechanic.”
Nico pulled a small paper from his jacket.
“Dad didn't just keep letters, Arthur.”
“He kept the original land grant signed by grandfather.”
“The mill never belonged to you.”
“It belonged to Clara’s mother.”
Arthur’s smile vanished completely.
“She gave it to me!”
“She gave it to you on her deathbed under duress,” Nico said.
“And Dad witnessed it.”
Nico dropped Arthur back into his leather chair.
Clara pulled a small wooden box from behind Arthur’s desk.
The lock was broken.
Inside were hundreds of unopened envelopes addressed to her.
They were covered in dirt and soot, but they were intact.
Arthur had lied.
He hadn't burned them.
Clara fell to her knees and picked up the letters.
She held them against her chest.
Suddenly, the lights in the office went out.
The room went completely dark.
The heavy office door slammed shut.
The sound of an iron deadbolt sliding into place rang through the room.
Nico ran to the door and pulled the handle.
May you like
It was locked from the outside.
A faint smell of smoke began to drift beneath the door.
