Chapter 2 - A Dead Woman's Seal
At the hospital, Emma's baby was fine.
That was the first truth that did not come with a trap.
Her hand had severe bruising but no fracture.
Robert stayed beside her.
He did not mention Victor.
Emma did.
“Did he know?”
“About Miriam?”
“Yes.”
“I don't know.”
“About Claire?”
Robert looked toward the window.
“Apparently I don't know who Claire is.”
Emma hated the answer because it was honest.
The police arrived.
Victor and Claire had both been detained for questioning regarding the restraint and attempted coercion.
The guards claimed Victor hired them.
Victor claimed Claire arranged them.
Claire claimed an intermediary did.
Everyone had documentation.
None matched.
Robert gave police the contract.
A forensic examiner immediately noticed something strange.
The paper was new.
Ink was new.
But Miriam Whitmore's notary stamp was authentic.
Not a reproduction.
The physical seal had belonged to her.
“How?”
Emma asked.
Robert finally told her.
Miriam had been a lawyer.
Notary.
Trust administrator.
She died when Emma was two.
A fire destroyed part of the Whitmore family estate.
Miriam was found inside.
Her office safe disappeared during the fire.
Inside:
legal seals.
Trust records.
Family documents.
Robert believed everything was lost.
“Did you see her body?”
Emma asked.
Robert became still.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
That mattered.
Miriam was dead.
Someone had her seal.
The examiner then checked the forged Emma signature.
It was produced from a digital template.
Claire's too.
Someone possessed samples of both women's handwriting.
Robert asked:
“Why Claire Whitmore?”
The examiner could not answer.
Claire could.
She requested to speak with Robert.
He refused.
Emma didn't.
Claire entered the interview room without emerald satin or arrogance.
Borrowed gray sweatshirt.
Hair tied back.
She looked younger.
More ordinary.
Emma stared at her.
“You slept with my husband.”
Claire lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You watched him try to force me to sign.”
“Yes.”
“Why should I listen to anything you say?”
“You shouldn't trust me.”
Emma appreciated that more than an excuse.
“But you should know why I went near Victor.”
Claire placed a photograph on the table.
Two women.
Miriam.
And another brunette.
Pregnant.
Robert recognized her.
His face emptied.
“Anna Bennett.”
Claire looked at him.
“My mother.”
Robert sat down.
Emma looked between them.
“You knew Claire's mother?”
Robert whispered:
“Yes.”
“How?”
Anna worked for Miriam.
Private secretary.
Friend.
And according to Claire—
something more.
Six months before Miriam's death, Anna became pregnant.
She refused to identify the father.
After the fire, Anna disappeared.
Claire was born seven months later.
Robert calculated.
Claire was twenty-nine.
The dates fit.
Claire continued.
“My mother died last year.”
Before dying, Anna gave Claire a box.
Inside were letters from Miriam.
One sentence appeared repeatedly:
If anything happens to me, Claire belongs to the Whitmore line.
Emma stared.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
Robert did.
Or thought he did.
His face showed it.
Emma turned.
“Dad.”
Robert whispered:
“Miriam couldn't have children naturally.”
Emma felt the floor shift.
“What?”
“You were conceived through IVF.”
Emma had never known.
Robert continued.
Miriam had stored embryos.
Several.
After Emma's birth, two remained.
Following Miriam's death, they disappeared with the safe records.
Emma looked at Claire.
Claire understood simultaneously.
“You think…”
Robert could barely say it.
“Claire may be Miriam's biological daughter.”
Silence.
Emma looked at the woman who had been sleeping with her husband.
Not merely Victor's mistress.
Possibly Emma's sister.
Then Claire pulled one more item from the box.
An old ultrasound photograph.
On the back, Miriam had written:
THE SECOND GIRL MUST NEVER KNOW ROBERT IS HER FATHER.
Robert stared at it.
May you like
And whispered:
“That's impossible.”
