Chapter 5 - THE CHILD WHO WASN'T IN THE FILESGraham stared at the report.
His first reaction was disbelief.
His second was rage.
"You expect me to believe this?"
Sloane's fingers shook.
"I didn't create it."
She handed him the paper.
Graham read the first line.
PATIENT: MAISIE GRANT.
DATE OF BIRTH: APRIL 14.
He looked at his daughter.
Her birthday was April 14.
The rest of the report was stranger.
The document referenced a newborn screening procedure.
A blood test.
A hospital.
A second identifier.
Graham read it twice.
"What is this?"
Sloane answered:
"Claire believed someone had changed Maisie's original medical records."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Then why have this?"
"Because Claire gave it to me."
Graham looked up.
"When?"
"Three months before she died."
Graham's face hardened.
"You lied to me."
"I was trying to protect myself."
"From what?"
Sloane swallowed.
"From Marcus."
Graham stared at her.
"You said Marcus was working with you."
"He was."
"You said he was helping you help Maisie."
"I was lying."
"Why?"
"Because he told me what would happen if I refused."
She stepped closer.
"He said I would disappear like Claire."
Graham felt a chill.
"Are you saying Marcus had something to do with Claire's death?"
"I'm saying he knew she was afraid."
"Did he kill her?"
"I don't know."
"Did he threaten her?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Sloane looked toward Maisie.
"Because Claire discovered the trust."
Graham nodded slowly.
"That's the money."
"Not just the money."
"What else?"
Sloane looked at him.
"The identity attached to it."
Graham frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Sloane hesitated.
"Claire's trust was created before Maisie was born."
"So?"
"It wasn't originally meant for a child named Maisie Grant."
Graham's expression changed.
Sloane continued.
"It was created for another beneficiary."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Then what are you hiding?"
Sloane's eyes filled.
"That beneficiary died."
Graham said nothing.
"Claire changed the beneficiary six weeks before Maisie was born."
"To Maisie."
"Yes."
"Why is that important?"
"Because the original beneficiary wasn't a child."
Graham's stomach dropped.
"Who was it?"
Sloane whispered:
"You."
Silence.
"What?"
"Your name was on the original trust."
Graham's mind raced.
Claire had created a trust for him?
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does if the trust wasn't really about inheritance."
"What was it about?"
"Ownership."
"Of what?"
Sloane shook her head.
"I never saw the entire file."
Before Graham could respond, the front door slammed somewhere beyond the library.
Everyone turned.
A security guard ran into the hallway.
"Mr. Grant!"
"What happened?"
"Someone entered through the east gate."
"Who?"
"We don't know."
Graham pulled Maisie behind him.
The lights flickered.
Then the entire house went dark.
Maisie screamed.
"Daddy!"
Graham grabbed her.
"Stay with me."
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Slow.
Measured.
One.
Two.
Three.
The security guards drew their weapons.
A figure appeared in the doorway.
Black coat.
Black gloves.
Face hidden.
Graham stepped forward.
"Who are you?"
The figure said nothing.
Then threw something onto the floor.
A small blue box.
Claire's box.
Graham's breath caught.
He reached for it.
A guard shouted:
"Don't touch it!"
Too late.
Graham opened the lid.
Inside was a flash drive.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed Claire.
Standing outside a hospital.
Holding baby Maisie.
But there was another person beside her.
A nurse.
Graham knew her.
He had seen her at Claire's funeral.
The figure in the doorway suddenly turned.
The guards chased him.
Graham grabbed the photograph.
On the back, Claire had written six words:
SHE KNOWS WHO YOUR DAUGHTER IS.
Graham stared at the nurse's face.
Then he remembered her name.
Dr. Evelyn Hart.
The same doctor whose name appeared on Maisie's behavioral report.
His daughter had never been her patient.
Yet she had assessed her.
And Claire had photographed them together years earlier.
Graham slowly turned toward Sloane.
"You said you barely knew Claire."
Sloane's eyes filled with tears.
"I lied."
"About what?"
"I knew exactly who Claire was investigating."
"Who?"
Sloane whispered:
"Your mother."
Graham went still.
"My mother is dead."
"I know."
"Then why would she be involved?"
Sloane stared at Maisie.
"Because she died fifteen years ago."
Graham waited.
May you like
Sloane whispered:
"And Claire spent the last year of her life proving your mother wasn't dead."
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