when I stepped into my apa
it on the windowsill, facing east, a quiet tribute to the hours we'd spent playing in her kitchen while she told me stories ab
had be
a bathroom, and a single window that overlooked a fire escape. Nothing looked disturbed. The bed was still made, the dishes still
emorize the Pillar mansion's security rotations. The bathroom cabinet was closed, but the toothbrush I'd positioned at an angle that morning now stood perfectly upright. The kitchen drawer that stuck sli
gone through
l. Nothing was stolen. Nothing was broken. Whoever had been here knew what they were doing and they wanted me to
bag. Everything was still there the photographs, the newspaper clippings, the bank records I'd stolen from the lawyer's office, and my mother's journal. If Jerry's peopl
n from my locket my mother standing beside Alistair Pillar, their hands intertwined was burned into my memory. They'd been close. Closer than e
ound the entry that had always confused
ccept us. He says we have to be
man who had abandoned us. But now I wasn't
found another entry,
t for the baby. He said it would p
I'd stolen regular deposits from an account traced to a shell company owned by the Pill
e person who might have answers. It rang
It's
eady. "I need to ask you something about my mother. About the year
e of breath tol
d you th
photograph. My mother and
sper: "Anne, you need to stop digging. Whatever y
What aren't yo
mother I would ne
se you made to her died with her.
ine a soft, shuddering breath. Then Mrs. Ko
mother's affairs, the payments she received, the
was hi
Pillar family for years, but after your mother
arles Blackwood. A lawyer who had known my m
ou," I w
ease. Be
the newspaper clippings,
r Retires Amidst Rum
ruptly resigned and disappeared from public life. If anyone knew
lead. But someone had searched my apartment. And if Jerry Pillar had sent
Charles Blackwo
-
on until I was three bl
sen my route deliberately a winding path through residential streets, doubling back twice, chec
was better tha
ver his chest. The streetlight caught the edge of his jaw, the faint smirk curving his lips. He didn't
aid. "Most people d
being followed by a
ng sound. "I don't have a grudge
e th
ouching me. Close enough that I could smell leather and smoke and something
ty-four hours," he said.
otic
g to wait politely while you run
ng to flinch. "I'm not
ng on
fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch was feathe
you're hiding," he said so
led the newspaper clipping from my pocket. "C
e, but something flickered behind h
ffairs. And I think he knows the
ze fixed on the clipping. Then he reached out
ather's lawyer. He disapp
kno
ink he's st
Jefferson's eyes. "And I thin
d it into his jacket pocket. "Then we'd
-
ator's report spread across the desk. He'd read it
llowing a routine procedure an emergency hysterectomy that had been performed to save her life. The surgery had
ad been born on
uterus. The surgery had been documented, the records sealed by the family, but Jerry's investigator
the page. The doctor's signature was there, along with the hospital administrator's. But the
. The signature was barely legibl
ea
had signed the falsified birth record. Which meant Eleanor wasn't just a protector. She was a conspirator. She had helped bur
gerous that Eleanor Delaware wo
s phone. He dialed Jefferson's number, but it wen
e realized he wasn'
heard footsteps, but there was someone standing in
dn't call out. He simply turned, his e
into the light, and Jerry's
tographs, in memories, in the nightmar
'd believe
asn't hi
leanor D
face lined with years of hiding. But her eyes were the same sharp, knowing,
uietly, her gaze dropping to the birth certific
d. Anne believed her mother had died years ago, that the Pillar family had de
ords coming out slower than he intended.
deliberate, and picked up the photograph Jerry had taken from Anne's locket
"To protect her from your father's ene
ct who
eting his with an intensity th
"You've put my d
supposed to be dead, her words e
augh
oved Margaret couldn't have given birth. And Eleanor Eleanor had signed the falsifi
it mad
he records say otherwise. So either you're lying, or someone went
h tightened, her knuckles going
is entire life trying to bury. And if you want to keep Anne alive, you n
voice hard. "Then tell me the trut
filled with a grief that seemed to span decades.
dead. And if you're not careful,
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