Chương 7
"Yes."
"And now you're standing there like some priest."
"I'm not asking anyone to forgive me."
"Convenient."
"I don't think any of this is convenient."
Vanessa rubbed her temples.
"I need everybody to stop doing that."
We looked at her.
"Doing what?"
She pointed vaguely around the table.
"Acting like being guilty of one thing means someone else becomes innocent."
Nobody answered.
Vanessa swallowed.
"Ethan lied."
She pointed at him.
"Dad buried Claire's report."
She pointed at our father.
"Mom lied to me for years."
Her hand dropped.
"All three things can be true."
For the first time that night, I looked at my sister and saw someone separate from my parents.
Not good.
Not innocent.
Just separate.
It frightened me almost as much as it relieved me.
Governor Pierce looked at my mother.
"Mrs. Bennett, why was Claire listed as deceased in foundation records?"
My mother sat very slowly.
"Because there was a trust provision."
My father muttered something under his breath.
She ignored him.
"What provision?"
I asked.
My mother's fingers tightened around the edge of her chair.
"If a beneficiary died or became legally unavailable, their interest reverted to the family charitable trust."
I stared at her.
"Legally unavailable?"
"The attorneys used that phrase."
"You didn't."
"No."
"Then what phrase did you use?"
She didn't answer.
My father did.
"Deceased."
Vanessa covered her mouth.
My mother glared at him.
"You signed it."
"I know."
"Then stop speaking as though I forged your name."
"I signed what you put in front of me."
"You knew what it said."
"Yes."
The governor's voice was quiet.
"How much money reverted?"
My mother looked toward the dark windows.
My father said, "Four point eight million."
The number seemed to rearrange the air.
Vanessa stood again.
"Claire had four point eight million dollars?"
"No," my father said.
"It was an expectancy."
"Don't use lawyer words."
"It wasn't cash sitting in her account."
"It was hers."
"Potentially."
I heard myself say, "I don't care about the money."
My mother turned toward me too quickly.
"Of course you do."
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
The question came out almost triumphant.
She thought she had found the old script again.
Greedy Claire.
Bitter Claire.
Unstable Claire.
I looked at her.
"Because six months ago, Lily's school asked for a copy of my family medical history."
My mother blinked.
"I requested archived records from the foundation because your office used to maintain family health forms for the trust."
My father stared.
"I found the memorial declaration."
My mother's face went blank.
"I saw my own date of death."
Nobody moved.
"It was three weeks after Lily was born."
Vanessa looked at me sharply.
"You had Lily then?"
I nodded.
My mother closed her eyes.
That reaction told me something I had never understood.
"You knew."
She didn't answer.
"You knew I had a baby when you signed it."
My father's face changed.
"Diane?"
My mother opened her eyes.
He stared at her.
"You told me Claire had miscarried."
I stopped breathing.
Vanessa whispered, "What?"
My father looked at me, then at my mother.
"You said the pregnancy was over."
My mother stood so abruptly that her chair toppled behind her.
"I was trying to prevent another disaster."
For several seconds, nobody understood what she meant.
Then I did.
I felt the room tilt.
"You knew where I was."
My mother said nothing.
I took one step toward her.
"After I left Richmond, you knew where I was."
Her eyes filled.
"Claire."
"You knew I was pregnant."
"I knew."
"And you told Dad I lost the baby."
"I was trying to keep him from going after you."
My father stared at her.
"Going after her?"
"You were furious."
"I was looking for her."
"You wanted her to sign a retraction."
"At first."
"You would have dragged her back into everything."
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"So you decided I was better off dead."
My mother shook her head.
"No."
"You told Vanessa I didn't want her."
"I thought distance was safer."
"You told Dad my daughter died."
"I thought he'd leave you alone."
"You filed paperwork saying I was dead."
Her mouth trembled.
"That was about the trust."
I laughed.
I couldn't help it.
It was a terrible sound.
"Thank God."
She stared at me.
"For a second, I thought it might have been personal."
My mother flinched.
I wished the cruelty back the moment it left my mouth.
Then I remembered Lily asking if Grandma would hit me again.
The regret stayed, but it no longer controlled me.
Governor Pierce watched my mother carefully.
"Who else knew Claire was alive?"
My mother wiped beneath one eye.
"No one."
My father said, "That's another lie."
She turned.
He looked at her with something close to disgust.
"Michael's attorney knew."
My mother froze.
I felt a new pressure behind my ribs.
"What attorney?"
My father looked at me.
"The same attorney who registered Bellweather."
Governor Pierce stepped forward.
"Name."
My father hesitated.
Then he gave it.
"Thomas Weller."
I knew the name too.
Not from Bellweather.
From my daughter's birth certificate.
Thomas Weller had been the notary who witnessed the affidavit my mother sent me six years ago, the one surrendering the Bennett family's claim to any future contact with Lily.
At the time, I had thought it was the closest thing to freedom they would ever give me.
Now my hands went cold.
"Why was Weller involved with Lily?"
My mother looked toward the door.
That was when one of the security officers stepped in front of it.
He didn't touch her.
He didn't need to.
My mother stopped.
I heard my own heartbeat.
"Mom."
She turned back slowly.
"What did you sign?"
Her face collapsed.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
Just enough for me to see that whatever came next was worse than the fake obituary.
May you like
"Claire," she whispered, "you were never supposed to find out about the other document."
I stared at her.
