Chapter 2
I had never understood how quickly love could turn into fear.
One second, I was staring at the woman I had planned to marry.
The next, I was wondering if I had ever known her at all.
“What did you just say?”
Claire’s eyes moved toward the letter.
“Daniel, give me that.”
I stepped back.
“No.”
She entered the room.
Emma immediately moved closer to me.
I noticed.
So did Claire.
“Emma,” Claire said softly, “you’ve caused enough confusion.”
My daughter stiffened.
I moved in front of her.
“Say that again.”
Claire looked at me.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You told my daughters I didn’t want them.”
“No.”
“Sophie identified you.”
“She’s six.”
“And Emma?”
Claire said nothing.
That silence answered enough.
I opened the door.
“Michael!”
My brother appeared almost immediately.
He looked from me to Claire.
“What happened?”
“Stay with the girls.”
“Where are you going?”
I held up Rachel’s letter.
“To find out whether my entire life has been built on a lie.”
Claire grabbed my arm.
“Daniel, please.”
I pulled away.
“Do not touch me.”
The color disappeared from her face.
I took my phone from the pocket of my trousers and called Helena.
Rachel’s mother.
Claire had told me Helena’s health had worsened after taking the girls to Portugal.
She also told me Helena didn’t want to speak to me because she blamed me for Rachel’s death.
I had spent six months believing my mother-in-law hated me.
The call connected.
A woman answered.
“Hello?”
My chest tightened.
“Helena?”
Silence.
Then I heard her gasp.
“Daniel?”
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Portugal?”
“What?”
“Are you in Portugal?”
“No. I’m in Providence.”
My legs weakened.
Claire backed toward the wall.
I stared at her.
“Are Emma and Sophie with you?”
Helena’s voice changed.
“What are you talking about?”
My hand started shaking.
“Claire told me Rachel arranged for you to take them.”
Helena made a sound somewhere between a sob and a cry.
“Daniel, I haven’t seen my granddaughters since Rachel’s funeral.”
The room tilted.
I sat down.
Helena kept talking.
“I’ve called you dozens of times.”
“I never got any calls.”
“I sent letters.”
I looked at Claire.
Nothing.
“I emailed you.”
Nothing.
“I even came to your house in March. Claire answered the door.”
I stopped breathing.
“What did she tell you?”
“That you had taken the girls away and didn’t want contact with Rachel’s family.”
I looked at Claire.
She whispered, “It wasn’t that simple.”
Helena heard her.
“Is she there?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel, listen to me. Rachel did not trust that woman.”
Claire stepped toward me.
“That’s a lie.”
I raised my hand.
She stopped.
“Why?”
Helena hesitated.
“Rachel called me three days before she died.”
My heart pounded.
“She said she had discovered money missing from the girls’ trust.”
I frowned.
“What trust?”
Another silence.
Then Helena whispered, “Oh, Daniel.”
I felt sick.
“What trust?”
“Rachel’s father left money for Emma and Sophie.”
I knew Rachel’s father had left an estate.
Rachel told me most of it had gone toward debts, taxes, and her medical care.
Apparently, that wasn’t true.
“How much?”
“Just over eight hundred thousand dollars.”
I stared at the floor.
Claire suddenly headed for the door.
Michael blocked her.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Move.”
“No.”
I stood.
“Claire.”
She turned.
“Where is the money?”
Her face changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
“I don’t know what Helena is talking about.”
“Rachel wrote that someone pressured her about custody. Helena says money was missing. My daughters have been hidden less than forty miles from me for six months.”
I stepped closer.
“And you knew where they were.”
Claire’s voice trembled.
“I was protecting you.”
“From my children?”
“From what Rachel did.”
My stomach twisted.
“What did Rachel do?”
Claire looked at Emma and Sophie.
“Not in front of them.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked Michael to take the girls into the adjoining room.
Emma refused.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“Sweetheart—”
“No more secrets.”
Her voice cracked.
“Every time adults say we shouldn’t hear something, something bad happens afterward.”
That sentence broke my heart.
I walked over and hugged her.
“No more secrets.”
Claire watched us.
For the first time, I saw something in her expression that I had mistaken for concern for months.
Control.
She needed control.
And she was losing it.
I called the police.
Claire’s eyes widened.
“You’re seriously doing this?”
“My children disappeared for six months.”
“They weren’t missing.”
“They were missing from me.”
Mrs. Hargrove’s name suddenly hit me again.
I turned to Emma.
“Why did you run tonight?”
Emma’s face changed.
“Because Mrs. Hargrove was taking us somewhere.”
“Where?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
Sophie spoke from the couch.
“She packed our clothes.”
Emma nodded.
“She kept saying we had to leave before morning.”
“Why?”
Emma looked at the letter.
“Because she found out I had that.”
I crouched beside her.
“How did you know where the wedding was?”
Emma reached into the plastic bag again.
She removed a damp card.
A wedding invitation.
My wedding invitation.
“Mrs. Hargrove had it in her desk.”
My name.
Claire’s name.
The hotel.
The date.
That was how my daughters had found me.
“How did you get here?”
“We walked to the gas station. A woman called us a taxi.”
“You took a taxi?”
Emma nodded.
“She paid the driver.”
I almost cried.
A stranger had done more to return my children to me than people I trusted.
Sirens sounded outside.
Claire heard them.
Her calm finally broke.
“Daniel, you’re making a terrible mistake.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
I held Rachel’s letter against my chest.
“I think I made the mistake eight months ago.”
Police arrived minutes later.
I explained everything.
They separated Claire from us.
Then one officer asked Emma if Mrs. Hargrove had ever hurt them.
Emma shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
The officer leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
Emma looked at me.
“She gave us medicine sometimes.”
My stomach dropped.
“What medicine?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“When we asked too many questions.”
I felt rage rise inside me.
But Emma wasn’t finished.
“She said Claire told her it would help us forget.”
The officer’s expression hardened.
I took Sophie into my arms.
May you like
Then Emma whispered the sentence that made the entire room go still.
“Daddy, Mrs. Hargrove said Mom didn’t die the way everybody thinks she did.”
