Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOWWe drove to the house before dawn.
Daniel insisted on coming.
Rachel drove.
I sat in the passenger seat with my father's letter pressed against my chest.
I couldn't stop thinking about the woman in the photograph.
My mother.
Alive.
For twenty years, I had believed I had watched her coffin lowered into the ground.
I remembered the funeral.
The flowers.
The rain.
My father standing beside me.
Derek hadn't been there.
He hadn't met me yet.
Or had he?
That question poisoned every memory.
The house stood at the end of a narrow road.
Small.
White.
Nothing like the Mercer mansion I had imagined from the documents.
A woman opened the door before we knocked.
She stared at me.
I stared at her.
Neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered:
“Anna.”
My knees weakened.
“Mom?”
She reached for me.
I stepped forward.
Then stopped.
“You're alive.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I had no choice.”
“You always had a choice.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You disappeared.”
“I had to.”
“Dad died.”
She looked at the floor.
“I know.”
“He never told me.”
“He couldn't.”
“What happened?”
She stepped aside.
“Come in.”
We entered.
The house smelled like tea and old books.
Photographs covered one wall.
Most had been turned face down.
I noticed one.
My childhood.
My mother.
My father.
And another woman.
Evelyn Mercer.
I pointed.
“Who is she?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Your grandmother.”
I stared at her.
I didn't understand.
“What?”
“Evelyn was your father's mother.”
I sat down.
Everything I knew about my family had been false.
My mother explained.
My father had inherited Mercer Holdings.
He had tried to dismantle it.
Evelyn opposed him.
She wanted the company preserved.
When my father discovered that money had been stolen through shell companies, he planned to expose everything.
Evelyn tried to stop him.
Then Derek appeared.
“He wasn't Derek Lawson then,” my mother said.
I looked up.
“Who was he?”
She handed me a photograph.
A younger man.
Same eyes.
Same face.
Different name.
“Ethan Vale.”
My heart stopped.
“Why did he change his name?”
“After your father died.”
“Why?”
“Because he was being investigated.”
“For what?”
“Murder.”
The room seemed to disappear around me.
“Derek killed my father?”
“We never proved it.”
“But you believed it.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“Then why did you let him marry me?”
“I didn't know who he had become.”
“You knew he was dangerous.”
“I knew what he had been.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
My mother began crying.
“He found you before I could.”
I froze.
“What?”
“The first time you met him wasn't at the charity dinner.”
I felt sick.
“Then when?”
“He saw you years earlier.”
“How?”
“Because he was looking for the trust.”
My blood turned cold.
My mother continued.
“He didn't know where the money was. Only that it had been transferred into your name.”
“And you hid it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
She looked directly at me.
“I didn't.”
I frowned.
“Then who did?”
My mother whispered:
“Your father.”
She opened a wooden box.
Inside was a key.
Old.
Brass.
Attached to a small metal tag.
15
I stared at it.
“What is this?”
“The vault.”
My heart raced.
“What vault?”
“The one Derek has spent seven years trying to find.”
I took the key.
My mother grabbed my hand.
“There is one thing you must understand.”
“What?”
“The money isn't the most dangerous thing in that vault.”
“What is?”
She looked toward the window.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
Her face went white.
“Someone followed us.”
Daniel stood.
“Everyone away from the windows.”
The SUV didn't move.
Then the rear door opened.
A man stepped out.
I recognized him immediately.
Derek.
He looked up at the house.
Our eyes met through the glass.
He smiled.
My mother whispered:
“He found you.”
Derek raised one hand.
Not waving.
Pointing.
At the key in my hand.
Then he turned and walked back to the SUV.
Rachel looked at me.
“What does he want?”
I closed my fist around the key.
“He wants whatever my father hid.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“He wants something inside that vault.”
“What?”
May you like
Her answer terrified me.
“Proof that he killed your father.”
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