Chapter 3 - The File in the Library
The words seemed to hang in the air between them, heavy and suffocating.
"His... first wife?" Claire whispered. "Daniel was never married before me. We met at his firm's charity gala—his mother gave me his background—"
"Eleanor wrote his background," Vanessa interrupted, her voice tight and trembling from the wind. "They scrubbed the public records six years ago. They bought off the county coroner, paid the registry clerk fifty thousand dollars to alter the marriage licenses, and spent three million dollars burying every digital trace of her existence."
Vanessa reached into the small, waterlogged clutch handbag hanging from her wrist. She pulled out a small, heavy silver key with a numbered brass tag attached to it.
"I didn't come here tonight to ruin his party," Vanessa said, pressing the key against the glass. "I came to get this to you. Emma knew what they were doing. She knew about the offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands, she knew about the city contract biddings, and she knew what Daniel did to his father."
Claire stepped back, her stomach turning over. "His father died of a heart attack."
"His father died forty-eight hours after altering his will to leave the Whitmore estate to Emma instead of Daniel," Vanessa shot back. "Take the key, Claire. Take it!"
"Why are you giving this to me?" Claire demanded, her voice rising in desperation. "If you know all this, why haven't you gone to the authorities? Why come to me?"
Vanessa’s expression shifted. The frantic anger in her eyes dissolved, replaced by something dark, hollow, and profoundly sad.
"Because six years ago, I helped them do it," Vanessa whispered. "I was Daniel’s legal assistant. I stamped the non-disclosure agreements. I shredded Emma's medical records. I took Eleanor's money to buy a condo in London and pretend none of it happened."
She shoved the key through the crack in the window. It fell onto the hardwood floor with a sharp metallic CLINK.
"I came back because I heard you were pregnant," Vanessa said quietly. "Emma was five months along when she went down the cellar stairs, Claire. Just like you."
Before Claire could utter a sound, the heavy oak door of her dressing room rattled.
"Claire?" Daniel’s voice called from the hallway, followed by the heavy jingling of his house keys. "Claire, open this door. We need to clear up this misunderstanding."
Vanessa’s eyes widened in terror. She didn't say another word. She turned on the wet stone ledge, grabbed the iron railing of the fire escape, and disappeared down into the dark rain.
Claire dropped to her knees, scooped the silver key off the floor, and shoved it inside the elastic band of her maternity tights just as the dressing room door unlocked and swung open.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
He had taken off his jacket. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He held a crystal tumbler half-filled with scotch in his right hand.
He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on the heavy velvet drapes that were still fluttering slightly from the open terrace window.
"You left the window open," Daniel said flatly. "It's pouring outside."
"I needed air," Claire said, standing up slowly and wiping her damp palms against her gown. "I felt sick."
Daniel closed the door behind him. He didn't lock it, but he stood directly in front of the frame, blocking the exit. He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes fixed on her face.
"My mother tells me you've been visiting Dr. Harrison's office on Thursday mornings," he said softly.
Claire felt her blood run cold. She didn't answer.
Daniel walked over to the vanity table. His eyes fell on the white envelope she had left open beside her jewelry tray. He picked it up, pulled out the ultrasound photo, and held it up to the dim light of the lamp.
For a long moment, the room was completely silent except for the sound of rain beating against the glass.
"Five months," Daniel murmured. He looked at the photo, his face completely devoid of emotion. No joy, no surprise, no warmth. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was going to tell you tonight," Claire said, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "Before Vanessa showed up."
Daniel set the ultrasound printout back on the table. He reached out and smoothed the edge of the paper with his thumb, a slow, methodical movement that made the hairs on the back of Claire's neck stand up.
"Vanessa is an unstable woman, Claire," Daniel said smoothly. "She has been attempting to extort my family for years. Whatever she said to you—whatever absurd stories she tried to plant in your head—you must forget them. For the sake of our child."
"She didn't speak to me," Claire lied, forcing herself to look directly into his eyes. "She ran into the garden. But Eleanor spoke to me, Daniel. Your mother told me Vanessa wasn't your mistress. She looked terrified."
Daniel’s hand paused on the table. A tiny muscle in his jaw twitched.
"My mother is old," Daniel said flatly. "And she worries too much about things that happened long ago. Now, take off that wet gown and get into bed. I have to go down to the library to finish some paperwork for the board."
May you like
He turned and walked toward the door. Just as his hand touched the brass knob, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
"By the way," Daniel said softly. "The silver key you're holding behind your back? It doesn't open anything in this house. But it used to open Emma's study."
