Chapter 14
When I woke, sunlight filled the apartment.
For several seconds, I didn’t remember where I was.
Then the previous day returned all at once.
The divorce.
The rain.
The necklace.
Alexander.
The trust.
I sat up slowly.
My mother’s emerald rested on the bedside table.
The brass key lay beside it.
I picked up the necklace and fastened it around my neck.
The baby kicked.
“Good morning to you too,” I whispered.
For the first time in months, no one was telling me what time breakfast should be served, what dress made me look “less pregnant,” or which friends Richard preferred I avoid.
The silence felt enormous.
I made toast.
It burned.
I ate it anyway.
At ten seventeen, someone knocked.
I checked the peephole.
Dana.
I opened the door.
She held two cardboard trays of pastries.
“My sister says anyone staying here must try the almond croissants downstairs.”
“You called her?”
“At four this morning.”
“Why were you awake?”
“Lawyers.”
“That isn’t an explanation.”
“It’s the only one we have.”
I let her in.
Dana placed the pastries on the table.
Her expression told me she had not come only for breakfast.
“What happened?”
“We got an inventory from Richard’s attorneys.”
“The box?”
“Yes.”
My heart accelerated.
“Is it intact?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“According to their filing, Richard received the contents through a private intermediary who claimed the materials belonged to the Sterling family.”
“They lied.”
“Almost certainly.”
“Who was the intermediary?”
“We’re checking.”
She opened her portfolio.
“The box contained twenty-six letters, eight photographs, an old address book, several corporate memoranda, and a small locked case.”
I stopped.
“Locked?”
“Brass lock.”
The key in my pocket suddenly felt heavy.
“Where is it?”
“The court ordered it transferred to neutral custody this morning.”
“So Richard can’t open it.”
“Not without the key.”
“Does he know I have it?”
“We don’t think so.”
I sat down.
Dana waited.
“There’s more,” I said.
“There usually is.”
“Alexander showed me a note.”
She nodded.
“He told me.”
“Do you trust him?”
Dana’s face became thoughtful.
“I’ve worked for Alexander for twelve years.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No.”
She sat across from me.
“I trust him to keep his word when he gives it carefully. I trust him to protect people he considers his responsibility. I trust him to tell the truth as he understands it.”
“As he understands it?”
“Alexander spent most of his life believing certain things about his father.”