Chapter 11
The brass key lay on my blanket.
Everyone’s eyes went to it.
I closed my hand around it.
“No.”
Alexander looked at me.
“No what?”
“No more theories until I see the box.”
Dana nodded.
“Reasonable.”
“Can Richard destroy it?”
“We’ve already asked a court to preserve all records and personal property connected to your mother.”
“I thought you said no abuse of power,” I said to Alexander.
He seemed confused.
“I didn’t say anything about power.”
“You’re Alexander Vance. People probably stop breathing when your legal team walks into a room.”
Dana raised an eyebrow.
“Usually they send emails first.”
I looked at her.
She smiled.
It was small, human, and oddly comforting.
Alexander leaned forward.
“Clara, I want to be clear about something.”
His voice was quiet.
“I’m not here to take control of your life. I may already have made that mistake once today.”
I remembered the courthouse.
The vehicles.
The guards.
The terrible promise he had made to Richard.
He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.
“What I said outside was unacceptable.”
I blinked.
“I was angry. And frightened. Neither excuses it.”
“You barely knew me.”
“I knew enough.”
“What does that mean?”
His gaze moved toward the necklace.
“I made a promise to your mother.”
The words settled over me.
“What promise?”
“That if she ever couldn’t protect you, I would.”
My throat closed.
“She asked you that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The night she gave me the key.”
“Then where were you?”
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Alexander froze.
I hated myself immediately.
But I also needed the answer.
“Where were you when I went into foster care?”
His face seemed to age ten years.
“I didn’t know.”
“How could you not know?”
“Because after your mother’s funeral, I was told you had gone to live permanently with relatives.”
“Who told you?”
“My father.”
Silence.
“He lied?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
My eyes burned.
“I spent eleven years in foster care.”
He looked devastated.
“I learned how to sleep with my shoes beside my bed because sometimes placements ended before breakfast. I learned not to unpack completely. I learned not to call anyone Mom because it made leaving worse.”
“Clara—”
“No.”
I wiped my cheek.
“I don’t want an apology for something you didn’t know. I want to know why you believed him.”
Alexander took a long time to answer.