Chapter 10 - Clara MercerThe woman looked at me.
She looked older than in the photograph.
But it was unmistakable.
My father's first wife.
Clara.
Alive.
My mind couldn't process it.
“You're Clara Mercer?”
She nodded.
My father stepped forward.
“She has a tendency to exaggerate.”
Clara looked at him.
“You taught me that.”
He smiled.
“Still bitter.”
“Still a murderer.”
My mother gasped.
Eleanor moved closer to her.
“Stay behind me.”
My father lifted both hands.
“No one needs to get hurt.”
Quinn laughed once.
“You brought armed men.”
My father looked behind him.
Two men stood near the doors.
“I brought insurance.”
Clara stared at me.
“Your grandfather tried to help me.”
“Why did you disappear?”
“Because Martin said he'd kill your mother.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“He threatened both of us.”
Clara continued.
“He told me that if I spoke, he would make it appear that I ran away.”
“Why did no one search for you?”
He had answers for everything.
“Because he controlled the search.”
My father sighed.
“You always did make things dramatic.”
Clara looked at him.
“You stole my identity.”
“I protected my business.”
“You forged my death certificate.”
He said nothing.
“You took my shares.”
Silence.
“You used my signature.”
Clara's voice cracked.
“You stole my life.”
My father finally looked angry.
“This is enough.”
Quinn stepped forward.
“You just admitted fraud.”
“I admitted nothing.”
Eleanor raised the ledger.
“You forgot this.”
My father's expression changed.
He moved toward her.
Quinn blocked him.
Then the lights went out.
Gunfire.
I dropped.
Someone screamed.
When the lights came back, Quinn was on the floor.
My father was gone.
So was the ledger.
And Clara was bleeding.
My mother rushed to her.
“Where are you hit?”
Clara touched her stomach.
“Not bad.”
Eleanor looked around.
“Where is Claire?”
I was standing behind a crate.
My heart hammered.
Nathan ran toward me.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
Then noticed something.
My father's men hadn't taken the box.
They had taken the ledger.
The brass key was still in my pocket.
And the ring.
I pulled it out.
Inside the ring was a tiny compartment.
I opened it.
A microfilm strip.
Eleanor stared.
“That's the original.”
“Original what?”
“Transfer records.”
“Money?”
“Ownership.”
I looked at my father’s company.
“What does it show?”
She shook her head.
“The real ownership.”
Quinn pushed himself up.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He looked at the ring.
His expression changed.
“That's why Martin was afraid of your grandfather.”
“What does it prove?”
Quinn answered.
“That your father never legally owned the company.”
My mouth fell open.
“He didn't?”
“Edward transferred it to Clara.”
I looked at Clara.
She nodded.
“I signed nothing.”
“Because your signature was forged.”
She took my hand.
“Your grandfather found out.”
“Then why did he make me trustee?”
“Because he knew Clara couldn't safely hold the shares.”
“Why me?”
Clara stared at me.
“Because Martin never suspected you.”
I thought about my father.
His calculations.
His fear.
His obsession with this birthday.
Then I realized something.
My father had known.
He knew I was turning twenty-six.
He knew the trust would activate.
And he had spent years preparing a confession to pin everything on me.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One video.
I opened it.
It showed my mother.
Tied to a chair.
My father stood behind her.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Bring me the ring.”
I stared.
He leaned toward my mother's face.
“Or she dies.”
The video ended.
My mother was sitting beside me.
Alive.
I looked at her.
May you like
Then at the screen.
The timestamp was from forty minutes in the future.
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