“Rebecca Sloan.”
The name meant nothing to me.
I repeated it.
“Who is Rebecca Sloan?”
Eric shook his head.
“You won't believe me.”
“Try.”
“She worked for my father.”
“As what?”
“Personal assistant.”
“How does she know about Claire?”
“She knew about the trust.”
“And Daniel?”
“She knew him.”
“That's not enough.”
Eric leaned closer.
“She was there the night Daniel died.”
My skin prickled.
“You said you didn't know who caused his death.”
“I don't.”
“But she does?”
“I think so.”
“Why would she be messaging me?”
“Because she wants something.”
“What?”
“Revenge.”
I stared at him.
“That is convenient.”
“I know.”
“Especially because it takes the blame away from you.”
He looked down.
“I deserve whatever happens to me.”
That answer surprised me.
“Then tell the truth.”
“I am.”
“Everything.”
He took a breath.
“I found Rebecca's name six months ago when I searched through my father's records.”
“What did she have?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“Daniel.”
“With Claire?”
“Yes.”
“The photograph we've seen?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“A different one.”
I felt the old pattern returning.
Another photograph.
Another missing piece.
Another secret preserved for years.
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you know it exists?”
“Rebecca sent me a copy.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“What did it show?”
Eric looked away.
“Evelyn.”
My stomach tightened.
“Doing what?”
“Meeting Daniel.”
I frowned.
“My mother-in-law knew Daniel?”
“She knew him better than you think.”
“Did she know he was Claire's father?”
“Yes.”
“Then why hide it?”
“She was trying to protect him.”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
Eric's voice was quiet.
I had never heard him speak so plainly.
“Evelyn believed I would destroy Daniel if I knew the truth.”
“And she was right?”
“I might have.”
The admission sat between us.
“Did you threaten Daniel?”
“No.”
“Did you threaten Evelyn?”
“No.”
“Did you manipulate the trust?”
“Yes.”
“Did you lie about Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Did you use my daughter?”
“Yes.”
There was no defense left.
Only facts.
I stood.
“Then I have nothing else to ask you.”
“Wait.”
I stopped.
“Rebecca isn't the person you should be afraid of.”
I turned.
“Who then?”
Eric looked frightened.
“The person who has the original photograph.”
“Who?”
He whispered another name.
“Margaret.”
I stared at him.
“Margaret Bell?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she have it?”
“Because her father was trustee.”
“That doesn't explain anything.”
“She knows what happened after Claire died.”
“Then why has she helped me?”
“Because she feels guilty.”
I thought of Margaret.
The quiet way she had brought documents.
The way she had looked at the old ledger.
The things she had admitted only when confronted.
“Guilty about what?”
Eric didn't answer.
“Tell me.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I say it, you won't believe me.”
“You've already given me plenty of reasons not to trust you.”
He looked at me.
“Margaret's father wasn't the only trustee.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“He had a partner.”
“Who?”
“Rebecca Sloan.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Rebecca worked for your father.”
“Yes.”
“And Margaret's father?”
“Yes.”
“They knew each other?”
“Yes.”
“What did they control?”
“The trust.”
I sat back down.
“So Rebecca had access to the money.”
“Yes.”
“And the records.”
“Yes.”
“And she could have known about Claire.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Eric.
“Then why would she blame you?”
“Because I found out she had been stealing.”
I stared at him.
“You're saying Rebecca stole from the trust?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why didn't you report her?”
“I tried.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“She threatened me.”
“With what?”
“She said she would expose Claire.”
I stared at him.
That was the first time his fear made sense.
Not enough to excuse him.
But enough to explain why he had been desperate.
“Why did you keep it secret?”
“Because I thought I could fix it.”
“With Olivia.”
“Yes.”
“By creating a new trust.”
“Yes.”
“By using Mae.”
“Yes.”
“You thought you could replace the missing money with your daughter's future.”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
I stood again.
“I don't forgive you.”
“I know.”
“I don't trust you.”
“I know.”
“But I need the truth.”
He nodded.
“Then find Rebecca.”
The meeting ended.
Outside, Harris was waiting.
I told him everything.
He didn't look surprised when I mentioned Rebecca.
“We've been searching for her.”
“Why?”
“She disappeared after Daniel's death.”
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
“We had limited records.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“We didn't know whether she was connected.”
I gave him Eric's statement.
Harris read it.
Then he stopped at one line.
“Margaret's father had a partner?”
“Yes.”
He looked at Jonathan.
“That's new.”
The three of us went directly to Margaret's office.
She was waiting.
When she saw our faces, she knew.
“You spoke to Eric.”
“Yes.”
She sat down.
“Did he tell you about Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“I was hoping he wouldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because Rebecca isn't the person you think she is.”
I stared at her.
“Then tell me who she is.”
Margaret opened a locked drawer.
She removed a photograph.
My heart stopped.
It was the photograph Eric had described.
Evelyn stood beside Daniel.
But Claire was not the only child in the picture.
There was another little girl.
Older than Claire.
Standing between them.
I looked at Margaret.
“Who is she?”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“My half-sister.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Rebecca?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Margaret looked down.
“Her name was Laura.”
I felt confused.
“What happened to her?”
Margaret swallowed.
“She disappeared eleven years ago.”
“When?”
“The week before Claire died.”
I looked again.
Laura was holding something.
A small envelope.
On the back of the photograph, Evelyn had written:
Laura knows where the money went.
My heart began pounding.
Harris took the photograph.
“Why have you never shown this?”
“Because my father ordered me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because Laura was the one who discovered the theft.”
“What theft?”
Margaret looked at me.
“The eight million dollars.”
I stared at her.
“Claire's trust?”
“Yes.”
“Someone stole it before Claire died.”
Margaret nodded.
“And Rebecca wasn't the thief.”
“Then who was?”
Margaret looked toward the closed office door.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“We always thought it was Eric.”
I waited.
“But it wasn't.”
The door handle moved.
Everyone turned.
A woman stood outside.
Dark hair.
Gray at the temples.
A navy coat.
The same woman who had first walked into my hospital room.
Madeleine.
She looked at Margaret.
Then at the photograph.
Then at me.
“I know where Laura is.”
Nobody moved.
Madeleine closed the door behind her.
“She isn't missing.”
:::
Click here to continue reading: PART 13: The Woman Who Was Never Missing
The Name We Chose Together Was Written Down Before Our Daughter Had Even Taken Her First Breath
Part 12 of 20
