Chapter 26
Dana immediately reached for her phone.
“Where?”
“Vanguard estate records.”
I stared at him.
“Can we get it?”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
Dana made the call.
While she spoke quietly near the door, I walked back to the window.
My baby shifted.
I rested both hands over my stomach.
For the first time, I thought about what all of this would mean when my daughter was born.
I had spent my whole life feeling as though my family story had been erased.
Now I had too many versions of it.
Daniel.
My mother.
Alexander.
Thomas.
Margaret.
Charles.
A trust designed to help vulnerable families.
Money stolen from it.
Adults making choices in rooms I never saw.
And somehow Richard had stumbled into the middle of it.
That thought stopped me.
I turned.
“Richard.”
Dana ended her call.
“What about him?”
“How did he know which storage box to acquire?”
Alexander’s expression changed.
I continued.
“He didn’t know my mother worked at Vanguard. I didn’t know. So why would he suddenly search for her papers?”
Dana went very still.
“That’s a good question.”
“He didn’t find the secret by accident,” I said. “Someone pointed him toward it.”
Alexander nodded.
“And if that person knew about the trust—”
“They may also know what’s on the drive,” Dana finished.
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Who benefited from Richard getting the box?”
No one had an answer.
Two hours later, we were no longer at the courthouse.
We sat in a secure archive room inside an old Vanguard building that looked nothing like the glittering headquarters I had seen on television.
This place smelled like paper and dust.
Shelves ran from floor to ceiling.
The archivist, a gray-haired woman named Mrs. Chen, placed a slim file box on the table.
“These were transferred from Charles Vance’s personal records after his death.”
Alexander opened the box.
Inside were medical correspondence, old insurance forms, and legal letters.
Then he found it.
A cream envelope.
On the front:
For Alexander Vance.
Personal.
From Dr. Thomas Mercer.
Alexander looked at me.
“Do you want to open it?”
“No.”
He seemed surprised.
“It’s addressed to you.”
He broke the seal.
Inside were two pages.
His eyes moved quickly across the first.
Then stopped.
“What does it say?”
He handed it to me.
Alexander,
By the time you read this, I may already be gone.
Your father has asked me to leave New York.