Chapter 5 - The Buried Truth
The paper was yellowed at the edges, bearing the letterhead of the St. Jude Medical Center in Cicero, dated six months ago. It was an admission log, marked "Confidential."
But it was the name at the top of the log that made my breath catch in my throat.
Patient: Beatrice Vance.
"Beatrice," I whispered. "She was in the car."
"She was the passenger," Damon said, his voice cold as the ice on the lake. "She was the one who was with Claire when the car went off the road. She got out, left her sister to die, and left my daughter in the backseat in the freezing cold so she wouldn't be connected to the accident."
"Why?" I asked, looking at the sleeping child in my arms. "Why would she leave them?"
"Because the car was full of cash," Damon said. "Three million dollars from my private accounts. Claire was leaving me, Natalie. She and Beatrice had planned it for months. They were going to take Lily, take the money, and vanish to Europe. But they had an argument in the car. The speed limit on Lake Shore Drive is forty. The police report said the car was going eighty when it hit the rail."
He walked to the window, his hands behind his back. "Beatrice wanted the money for herself. She took the bag from the trunk before she fled. She left her sister to bleed out so there would be no one to tell me what they had done."
"And now she wants Lily," I said, the horror of it settling into my bones. "Not because she loves her. Because she's afraid Lily will remember."
"Lily is the only witness," Damon said. "If she stays with me, she will eventually talk. Beatrice knows that. That's why she's been trying to get custody. She wants to ensure my daughter stays silent forever."
He turned back to face me. "But she didn't count on you."
"Me?"
"You're the only person Lily trusts," Damon said, stepping closer. He reached out, his long fingers gently touching the side of my face. His hand was warm, his touch surprisingly soft for a man who had spent his life in the dark. "You gave her a voice, Natalie. You gave her the safety she needed to speak again."
I looked down at the paper in my hand, then at the little girl who was currently sleeping peacefully in her crib, her dark curls spread across the pillow.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"The police are already on their way to Beatrice's home," Damon said. "With this letter and the blood sample from the airbag, she will be behind bars before midnight. She will never touch my daughter again."
He looked at me, his gray eyes soft for the first time since I had met him. "But I need you to stay, Natalie. Not as a servant. Not as a waitress. As her mother."
"I'm not her mother, Damon," I whispered.
"She chose you," Damon said, his voice low and certain. "And so do I."
He stepped back, giving me space, but his eyes never left my face. "The guest house is yours if you want it. Your tuition is paid. Your life is your own. But we are a family now, Natalie. Whether we want to be or not."
He walked out of the nursery, leaving the door open.
I walked over to the crib, looking down at Lily. She stirred in her sleep, her tiny hand reaching out to find my finger. I let her take it, her small grip warm and solid.
May you like
The snow had started to fall again outside, quiet and clean, covering the dark lake and the stone walls of the fortress. But inside, the silence was finally gone.
I sat on the edge of the crib, holding my daughter's hand, and for the first time in six months, I let myself believe that the winter was finally over.
