Chapter 8 - THE SECRET BEFORE OUR WEDDINGClaire's maiden name wasn't Hart.
At least, not originally.
That was the first discovery.
Her mother had changed the family's surname years earlier.
The records were incomplete.
But investigators found enough.
Claire's biological father had once worked for my grandfather.
His name was Samuel Vale.
He had been involved in the company before the fire.
Then he disappeared.
I stared at the file.
"Why didn't Claire ever tell me?"
"Because she didn't want you to know," Reyes said.
That much was obvious.
But why?
The next revelation came from financial records.
Samuel Vale had accused my grandfather of fraud.
He claimed money had been diverted through offshore accounts.
He had filed documents.
Then he vanished.
Ethan had discovered the same records years later.
That was why Ethan had confronted the family.
That was why he disappeared.
That was why the fire happened.
I sat in silence.
My entire childhood had been built around a lie.
Then the investigator showed me something else.
A photograph of Claire with Ethan.
Taken years before our wedding.
I stared at it.
She was twenty-three.
Ethan was standing beside her.
They weren't lovers.
They looked like conspirators.
"How long did they know each other?"
"Since before you met Claire."
I closed my eyes.
Our wedding.
Our first date.
The night Claire told me she had never met my brother.
Every memory shifted.
Not disappeared.
Shifted.
Like furniture suddenly pushed aside to reveal a locked door.
Then came the worst part.
Ethan hadn't planned the entire operation.
Claire had.
He had provided access.
Records.
Money.
Information.
But Claire had entered my life willingly.
She had studied me.
My work.
My habits.
My finances.
My family.
She had become the perfect wife.
And I had never suspected her.
That night, I requested a full forensic review of our home.
Police searched everything.
The attic.
Basement.
Garage.
Office.
Bedroom.
Kitchen.
They found hidden files behind a loose panel in the study.
Inside was a notebook.
Claire's handwriting.
The first page contained a date.
Two years before our marriage.
The next page:
TARGET: HUY BENNETT.
I stared at the name.
My own.
The pages continued.
Profession.
Income.
Family structure.
Trust assets.
Weaknesses.
Daily routine.
And then:
EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT TO CHILDREN: HIGH.
I couldn't breathe.
She knew.
She knew exactly how much I would love Noah.
The next page was worse.
PREGNANCY TIMELINE.
Then:
CHILD CREATES ACCESS.
I dropped the notebook.
Reyes picked it up.
"Mr. Bennett?"
I shook my head.
"No."
He looked at me.
"What?"
"I remember something."
"What?"
"The night Claire told me she was pregnant."
I swallowed.
"She was smiling."
"That's normal."
"No."
I looked at him.
"She wasn't happy."
She had been relieved.
At the time, I mistook relief for happiness.
Now I wasn't sure anymore.
A phone rang.
One of the officers answered.
Then looked at Reyes.
"Detective?"
Reyes stepped aside.
When he returned, his face was pale.
"Ethan has been located."
My heart stopped.
"Where?"
"At a private medical facility."
"Why?"
"He checked in under a false name."
"Is he alive?"
"Yes."
I stood.
"Then arrest him."
Reyes hesitated.
"We can't."
"Why not?"
"Because he says he has evidence that Claire never intended to kill Noah."
"What did she intend?"
He looked at me.
"Ethan says the baby was never the target."
My stomach turned.
"Then who was?"
Reyes didn't answer.
He simply handed me another file.
Inside was a death certificate.
May you like
Not Noah's.
Mine.
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