Chapter 13 - The Sister Who Wanted My Life
I had spent seven years believing Vanessa was the sister who stayed.
The one who visited my bedside.
The one who brushed my hair when my hands trembled.
The one who arranged flowers in my bedroom and told me how lucky I was to have Richard.
Now Peter Lawson was telling me she'd wanted me dead.
I stared at his face on the screen.
"Why?"
Peter lowered his eyes.
"Money."
"Vanessa had money."
"Not the kind she wanted."
I felt Charlotte's hand tighten around mine.
Peter continued.
"She owed millions to people who were threatening to expose her."
"Expose what?"
"Investment fraud. Forged documents. Money taken from accounts your father had established for family trusts."
I closed my eyes.
I remembered Vanessa crying in my kitchen nearly eight years earlier.
She'd told me her business partner had ruined their investment company.
I'd given her two million dollars.
Richard had advised against it.
Or at least, that was how I remembered the conversation.
Now I wondered whether they'd staged the disagreement.
"What did she want from me?"
Peter swallowed.
"Access to your trust."
"She already had a trust."
"Your father changed the terms before he died."
I looked at Samuel.
His face went pale.
"What terms?"
Peter hesitated.
"Vanessa's distributions were restricted. She couldn't access the principal without an independent trustee's approval."
My heart sank.
My father had never explained that to me.
Perhaps he'd been preparing to.
Perhaps it was one of the things inside the brown leather folder.
Peter continued.
"Richard told her that if you were declared incapacitated, he could control your voting interest through the documents he was preparing."
"But she wanted me dead."
Peter nodded.
"She thought Richard would inherit the additional assets and reward her for helping."
"Did Richard agree?"
"He told her the arrangement would be easier if you couldn't object."
I felt physically ill.
Two people I loved had discussed my life as though it were a bank account.
"What happened on the mountain?"
Peter's hands began shaking again.
"I was driving. The blue truck was supposed to force us toward the shoulder."
"Supposed to?"
"We were told to stop you. Make it look like an accident. Leave you injured, frightened, and dependent."
I stared at him.
"You agreed to that?"
He began crying.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Money. I needed it."
I wanted to scream.
He had sold my life for a paycheck.
"My baby?"
Peter looked away.
"No one told me you were pregnant until the day before."
"You could see it."
"I know."
The silence that followed was unbearable.
He wiped his eyes.
"I tried to back out."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because they threatened my daughter."
I looked at him sharply.
"You have a daughter?"
"She's twenty-one now."
"And you chose to destroy someone else's family to protect yours?"
Peter didn't answer.
That silence was the first honest thing about him.
I leaned forward.
"Where is my son?"
Peter looked at Detective Hayes.
"He's with my daughter."
The detective moved closer.
"Name and location."
"Olivia Lawson. She's staying with friends in Massachusetts."
"Why take him there?"
"Because Vanessa's people were coming to Margaret's house. I overheard the plan."
"How?"
"Northbridge still contacts me whenever they need something hidden."
Detective Hayes frowned.
"Do you have evidence of this threat?"
Peter nodded.
"Messages. Recorded calls."
"Why didn't you call the police?"
"Because I thought someone would warn Richard."
Charlotte spoke.
"You've made terrible decisions, Mr. Lawson. You can start correcting them now."
Peter lowered his head.
Then gave the detective his daughter's number.
For the next forty minutes, police worked to confirm the account.
When Olivia answered, she said Ethan was with her.
Safe.
Asleep.
He had been frightened but hadn't been injured.
I pressed both hands against my mouth.
Then the detective asked Olivia to let an officer speak briefly with the boy.
A small voice came through the speaker.
"Hello?"
My eyes filled with tears.
It was the first time I'd heard my son's voice.
"Hi, Ethan," Detective Hayes said gently. "Are you okay?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where you are?"
"At Olivia's house."
"Did anyone hurt you?"
"No."
"Is there anything you need?"
A pause.
"Can I go home?"
I covered my face.
Margaret began crying beside me.
The detective continued carefully.
"We're working on that."
Ethan hesitated.
Then asked, "Did you find the lady in the wheelchair?"
My heart stopped.
Detective Hayes looked at me.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because Mr. Peter said she's my real mom."
I couldn't breathe.
The detective glanced toward Charlotte.
Then back at the speaker.
"Would you like to talk to her?"
There was a long pause.
"Is she nice?"
Tears streamed down my face.
I leaned forward.
And for the first time in seven years, I spoke directly to my son.
"Hello, sweetheart."
He was silent.
"My name is Eleanor."
Another pause.
Then his tiny voice returned.
"Are you really my mom?"
I closed my eyes.
"I believe I am, Ethan. But we'll make sure we tell you the truth."
"Margaret says my mom loved me."
My voice broke.
"She was right."
The boy sniffled.
"Did you look for me?"
I pressed my hand against my chest.
"Every day in my heart. I didn't know where you were."
A long silence followed.
May you like
Then he whispered something that nearly broke me.
"I thought you forgot me."
