Chapter 19 - The PhotographI stared at the photograph until the room blurred.
Three days before our wedding.
Ethan and me.
Standing outside our apartment.
Smiling.
Behind us, across the street, someone was watching.
I zoomed into the reflection in the window.
A woman.
Blonde.
Vanessa.
My phone rang.
I answered.
“Claire.”
Vanessa.
“You received it.”
“Yes.”
“Then he knows.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
I froze.
“What about him?”
“He wasn't the architect.”
“What are you saying?”
“There is someone above Martin.”
My heart sank.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
She took a breath.
“But I've heard one name.”
“What name?”
“Eleanor Vale.”
I didn't recognize it.
“Who is she?”
“Your grandmother.”
My breath stopped.
“My grandmother died before I was born.”
“That is what your family told you.”
I sat on the bed.
“What does she want?”
“To recover the trust.”
“What trust?”
“The original Northstar trust.”
“The one in my name?”
“No.”
Vanessa whispered:
“The one in your mother's name.”
I stood.
“My mother has a trust?”
“Yes.”
“For how much?”
“A little over two billion dollars.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“This is impossible.”
“No.”
“Then why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because the trust was created before Northstar.”
“For what?”
“Protection.”
“From whom?”
“Your grandmother.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Vanessa…”
“Yes?”
“Who is the woman in the photo?”
She went silent.
“The blonde woman?”
“Yes.”
“That isn't me.”
I froze.
The woman in the reflection looked like Vanessa.
But younger.
Much younger.
My voice dropped.
“Then who is she?”
Vanessa whispered:
“Eleanor Vale.”
My grandmother.
I felt the room tilt.
“She was alive when I married Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“Why was she watching us?”
“Because she wanted to know whether Ethan would obey.”
“Obey whom?”
“Her.”
I closed my eyes.
Ethan had been controlled by his father.
His father had been controlled by Martin.
Martin had been controlled by someone else.
And that someone was my grandmother.
The true architect.
Suddenly, the entire story changed.
My husband hadn't been the beginning.
He hadn't even been the middle.
He had been a pawn.
I called Ethan.
He answered immediately.
“Claire?”
“Come home.”
There was silence.
“Why?”
“I know about Eleanor.”
His breathing stopped.
“You shouldn't say that name.”
“Why?”
“Because she has been waiting.”
“For what?”
“For you to find out.”
A noise sounded behind him.
“What was that?”
“Claire…”
“What?”
“I think she's here.”
Then the call ended.
I ran to the door.
It opened by itself.
A woman stood in the hallway.
Silver hair.
Black coat.
Elegant.
Calm.
She looked at me.
And smiled.
“Hello, Claire.”
I couldn't move.
“You…”
She nodded.
“I know.”
She stepped inside.
“I am Eleanor.”
My grandmother.
Alive.
And she was holding the compass.
The one I thought had been lost forever.
She placed it on my table.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Now you are ready to hear why I made you marry Ethan.”
