Chapter 6 - The Daughter Who Had Been Watching
Victor crossed the room first.
“Come out.”
No response.
Sal raised his weapon.
Molly stepped around Victor.
“Grace?”
The bedroom door moved.
A young woman appeared.
Dark brown hair.
Pale face.
Wide hazel eyes.
Twenty-four years old.
Alive.
Molly knew immediately.
Not because they looked identical.
They didn’t.
Grace was taller.
Thinner.
Sharper around the eyes.
But Molly recognized the small dimple in her left cheek.
The same dimple Molly’s brother had.
Grace whispered, “You came.”
Molly couldn’t speak.
Fifteen years of imagined moments collapsed into one impossible second.
Then she crossed the room.
Grace moved too.
They stopped inches apart.
Neither knew whether hugging was allowed.
Finally Grace whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Molly broke.
She wrapped her arms around her daughter.
Grace held her back.
No dramatic music.
No perfect words.
Just two women crying into each other’s shoulders because fifteen years could not be repaired in one embrace, but an embrace was somewhere to begin.
Victor turned away.
Sal lowered his eyes.
After several minutes Molly pulled back.
“The voicemail.”
Grace wiped her face.
“I recorded it when someone tried the front door.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are they?”
Grace pointed toward the fire escape.
“They left when your people arrived.”
Victor looked at Sal.
“Search the block.”
Grace stared at Victor.
“You’re Victor Hastings.”
“Yes.”
Her expression hardened.
“You let Elena die.”
Victor absorbed the accusation.
“No.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“By whom?”
Grace hesitated.
“Claude Laurent.”
Everyone went still.
Molly stared.
“You knew Laurent?”
Grace nodded.
“He contacted me two years ago.”
“Why?”
“He said he had information about Elena.”
Victor’s face darkened.
“He was manipulating you.”
“I know that now.”
Grace looked ashamed.
“I believed him.”
“What did he tell you?” Molly asked.
“That Victor covered up Elena’s murder.”
Victor did not defend himself.
Grace continued.
“He said my birth mother had been paid to disappear.”
Molly’s face tightened.
“He told you I abandoned you for money?”
Grace nodded.
Molly’s anger became cold.
Laurent had found every old wound and turned it into a weapon.
“He showed me bank transfers.”
Victor asked, “From whom?”
“The Hastings Foundation.”
Molly looked at Victor.
“I never received money.”
Grace nodded.
“I found that out.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Grace looked toward the floor.
“Because I didn’t know who to trust.”
Molly understood.
It hurt.
But she understood.
Grace had been raised under secrecy.
Told danger followed her family.
Then an older man arrived with documents proving pieces of a story.
Fear could make lies feel safe.
Victor asked, “Did Laurent ask you to do anything?”
Grace nodded.
“He wanted access to Elena’s trust.”
Adrian cursed quietly.
Grace continued.
“He said the money belonged to me.”
“It does,” Victor said.
Grace looked surprised.
Victor continued.
“Whatever Elena left you is yours.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“It isn’t mine.”
Grace studied him.
For the first time, some of her hostility weakened.
Molly sat beside her.
“Why were you at this apartment?”
“Adrian brought me here yesterday.”
“You trusted Adrian?”
“Eventually.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“I discovered Laurent had been accessing sealed adoption records illegally. That’s how I found Grace.”
Victor frowned.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know whether you were involved.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Apparently no one did.”
Grace looked at Molly.
“I was going to meet you tomorrow.”
Molly smiled through tears.
“I would have liked tomorrow.”
Grace smiled faintly.
“Me too.”
Russo entered.
“We found someone.”
Everyone turned.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Two officers brought in a man.
Dennis.
Molly stared.
“You said Dennis was dead.”
Russo looked grim.
“The dead man had Dennis’s identification.”
Dennis was bruised and shaking.
Victor stepped toward him.
“Explain.”
Dennis collapsed into a chair.
“Laurent made me do it.”
Victor’s patience was gone.
“Do what?”
“Switch the plates.”
Molly stared.
“You carried Victor’s plate.”
Dennis nodded.
“I didn’t know it was cyanide.”
“Everyone says that,” Molly said.
“I swear.”
Victor asked, “Who died in your car?”
Dennis looked sick.
“Laurent’s driver.”
“Why?”
“He wanted everyone to think I was dead.”
“So you could disappear?”
Dennis nodded.
“He promised me money.”
Raymond said, “You nearly killed eight people.”
Dennis started crying.
“I thought they’d only get sick.”
Dominic, who had been brought in under police supervision, laughed bitterly from the hallway.
“That’s what Laurent told me too.”
The two men looked at each other.
Both had been used.
Both had still chosen wrong.
Russo pulled out his phone.
“We have enough for conspiracy, kidnapping, attempted murder, tampering, probably more.”
Victor looked at Dominic.
“And him?”
Russo sighed.
“That depends on prosecutors.”
Dominic nodded.
“I’ll cooperate.”
Victor stared.
Dominic continued.
“I deserve whatever comes.”
Victor said nothing.
Fifteen years of rage could not be resolved with forgiveness.
Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
Molly looked at Grace.
“What happens now?”
Grace smiled faintly.
“I have no idea.”
“That makes two of us.”
Grace laughed.
It was the first normal sound Molly had heard all night.
Then Victor’s phone rang.
Sal answered.
His face changed.
“Boss.”
Victor took the phone.
Listened.
Then his entire body went rigid.
“What?”
Sal asked.
Victor ended the call.
“Laurent escaped custody.”
Russo stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“He had help.”
“From who?”
Victor looked at Grace.
“He’s going back to the restaurant.”
Molly frowned.
“Why?”
Victor checked the time.
11:52.
Eight minutes to midnight.
Adrian whispered, “The original trust documents.”
Victor looked at him.
“They’re in the restaurant safe?”
Adrian nodded.
“If Laurent destroys them before midnight, he can challenge Grace’s claim.”
Molly stared.
“He nearly killed Victor for money?”
Adrian shook his head.
“Not just money.”
“What else?”
“Those documents contain Elena’s original financial evidence.”
Victor grabbed his coat.
Russo said, “You’re staying here.”
“No.”
“You are a target.”
“So is the evidence.”
Grace stood.
“I’m coming.”
Molly immediately said, “No.”
Grace looked at her.
“You came for me.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m letting you run toward a murderer.”
Grace’s expression softened.
“Mom.”
The word stopped Molly.
It was the first time Grace had said it in person.
Molly almost changed her mind.
Almost.
“No.”
Grace smiled slightly.
“Okay.”
Victor looked impressed.
“That was easy.”
Grace shrugged.
“I’m not stupid.”
Molly hugged her once more.
Then she followed Victor.
They reached Maison Laurent at 11:58.
Smoke poured from the rear entrance.
“Fire!” Molly shouted.
Victor ran inside.
The office hallway burned.
Sprinklers had activated.
Water poured from the ceiling.
Molly covered her mouth.
Victor reached the office safe.
Open.
Empty.
“Too late.”
A sound came from the dining room.
Slow applause.
Claude Laurent stood beneath the chandelier.
Wet from the sprinklers.
Bleeding from one temple.
Holding Elena’s original ledger in one hand.
And a gun in the other.
“Two minutes,” he said.
Victor stepped forward.
Laurent raised the gun.
Molly froze.
Laurent smiled.
“At midnight, everything disappears.”
Victor looked at the burning papers scattered across the floor.
Then at the ledger.
“What do you want?”
Laurent’s eyes moved to Molly.
“The waitress.”
Victor went still.
Laurent pointed the gun at him.
“Give me Molly Higgins.”
Molly stepped forward.
Victor blocked her.
“No.”
Laurent smiled.
“Then I burn Elena’s last proof.”
He held the ledger over the flames.
The clock above the bar changed.
May you like
11:59.
And Laurent pulled the trigger.
