Chapter 13 - Margaret Crane
Margaret did not ask for money.
She wanted the keys.
Both.
Mine and Serena’s.
In exchange, she would release Jonathan.
I said no.
Everyone looked at me.
Walter whispered:
“That’s my brother.”
“I know.”
Margaret sounded amused over the phone.
“You really are David’s daughter.”
“Where is Jonathan?”
“Safe.”
“Proof.”
A video arrived.
Jonathan.
Seventy.
Alive.
Seated in a room.
No visible injuries.
He looked furious, not frightened.
“Clara, don’t give her anything.”
Margaret slapped the phone away from him.
Not him.
Even villains were capable of controlled choices.
Then she said:
“The keys open more than the blue room.”
We already opened it.
No.
There was another compartment.
Under the floor.
Jonathan’s most important archive.
Walter hadn’t known.
Margaret did.
She wanted it because it contained the original Mercer share certificates and evidence connecting her to the fraudulent property transfers.
Without it, she could still deny many historical claims.
I asked:
“Why did you keep Rebecca alive?”
Silence.
Then Margaret answered:
“Because she was my niece.”
Her motive began with love.
Evelyn took part in removing baby Rebecca from Marjorie.
Margaret found out.
She tried to return the child.
Jonathan stopped her because Rebecca’s adoptive parents had already bonded with her and a public battle would expose illegal family actions.
Margaret decided everyone was corrupt.
So she built her own solution.
She created a duplicate legal identity.
A financial path for Rebecca to inherit later.
Then the system grew.
David helped.
Pike helped.
Others helped.
Everyone told themselves the end justified the means.
Eventually Margaret controlled dozens of false companies and identities.
“Where is Rebecca now?”
Margaret hesitated.
That was the first weakness I heard.
“She left me.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Around the time my fake mortgage payments began.
Rebecca escaped Margaret’s control.
But the extortion account continued.
Meaning Margaret—not Rebecca—received my money.
Pike had been wrong about whose account it really was.
A nominee company layered the ownership.
I asked:
“Did you hurt her?”
“No.”
“Did you imprison her?”
Silence.
“Margaret?”
“I kept her safe.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The family’s favorite phrase.
“She was forty years old.”
“She was confused.”
“Was she free to leave?”
No answer.
So no.
Then Jonathan shouted in the background:
“Tell Clara why Rebecca left!”
Margaret cut him off.
I said:
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Then no keys.”
She became angry.
“She found out who Serena really is.”
My sister went still.
“What?”
Margaret continued.
“Ask Marjorie why she never ordered DNA tests on all three daughters.”
Mom whispered:
“We did.”
“No. You tested Clara and Serena against yourself. Never against Jonathan.”
Mom looked sick.
Serena stared.
“Mom?”
The implication was clear.
Serena might not be Jonathan’s biological child either.
Then Margaret said:
“And Rebecca found the real father.”
Nathan reached for Serena.
She pulled away.
“Who?”
Margaret laughed.
“Bring me the keys.”
Call ended.
Then David said quietly:
“I know.”
Everyone turned.
May you like
He stared at Serena.
“I know who your father is.”
