Chapter 6
The world went black for a second.
I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears, loud as a drum.
“Where are you?” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“At the city library,” Ms. Lee sobbed. “We were here for the summer reading program. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry—”
I hung up.
Yelled at Elias to drive.
We were at the library in seven minutes, sirens blaring behind us—Elias had called 911 the second I got off the phone.
The police were already there.
Yellow tape around the front entrance.
Ms. Lee was sitting on the curb, crying, a police officer kneeling next to her.
I ran to her.
Grabbed her shoulders.
“What happened?” I said, shaking her. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
She took a shaky breath.
“We were walking out to the car,” she said. “Lila was holding my hand. A woman walked up. She said she was Lila’s aunt. She had a photo of Lila as a baby. She said you’d sent her to pick her up because there was an emergency at home. Lila let go of my hand. She walked over to her. The woman put her in a black SUV and drove away. I tried to stop her. I’m so sorry.”
“Aunt?” I said. “What did she look like?”
“Mid-30s,” Ms. Lee said. “Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Scar on her left cheek. She was wearing a blue jacket.”
I froze.
Claire.
Mark’s missing sister.
The girl who’d run away from Helen 20 years prior.
I’d only ever seen one photo of her.
A blurry old family picture Mark had kept in a drawer.
Blonde.
Blue eyes.
Scar on her left cheek from a bike accident when she was 12.
It was her.
But why would she take Lila?
Had Helen found her?
Paid her?
Forced her?
Elias pulled me aside.
“Police ran the plates Ms. Lee got,” he said. “The SUV is registered to a small cabin two hours north of the city. Owner is a woman named Claire Bennett. That’s the name Claire was using when she got a driver’s license in Oregon 15 years ago. We found her.”
I didn’t wait for the police.
I told Elias to drive.
We raced up the highway, going 20 over the speed limit, my hands shaking so bad I could barely hold my phone.
I called Mark.
He didn’t answer.
I called Helen.
She picked up on the first ring.
She laughed.
Cold.
Cruel.
“Where is she?” I screamed. “What did you do with my daughter?”
“Your daughter is exactly where she belongs,” Helen purred. “With family. You think you’re the only one who can find people? I found Claire three months ago. Told her if she helped me get Lila back, I’d tell everyone she was dead all these years, let her come home. She’s been waiting 20 years to be a family again. She’ll never give her up to you.”
I hung up.
Threw my phone at the car door.
It shattered.
We pulled up to the cabin an hour later.
It was small, made of logs, set back in the woods, a lake behind it.
The black SUV was parked in the driveway.
I jumped out of the car before Elias even stopped.
Ran up the porch steps.
Banged on the door so hard my knuckles split.
“LILA!” I screamed. “LILA, IT’S MOMMY!”
The door opened a second later.
Claire stood there.
She looked just like her photo, just older, tired, lines around her eyes.
She held her hands up, like she was surrendering.
“She’s fine,” she said, her voice soft. “She’s in the living room, watching cartoons. She’s not hurt. I swear.”
I pushed past her.
Ran into the house.
Lila was sitting on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
When she saw me, she jumped up.
Ran to me.
I fell to my knees, holding her so tight I was scared I’d break her.
“Mommy,” she said, laughing through tears. “Aunt Claire said you’d come. She said she was keeping me safe from Grandma Helen.”
I looked up at Claire.
She was leaning against the doorframe, crying now.
“Helen told me if I took Lila, she’d let me come home,” she said, her voice breaking. “She said she’d tell everyone she was sorry, that she’d changed. I wanted to believe her. I’ve been alone for 20 years. I just wanted a family.”
She walked over to the kitchen table.
Picked up a thick manila folder.
Handed it to me.
“But when I got Lila here, she told me what Helen did to her,” Claire said. “The rice. The ruler. All of it. I remembered. I remembered every second of what Helen did to me. I couldn’t let her do it to another kid. I called the police an hour ago. I told them everything. I have proof.”
I opened the folder.
Inside was Arthur’s original will.
The one Helen had hidden 25 years prior.
It left his entire estate—including his 3% of Langford shares—to Claire.
Not Helen.
Not Mark.
Claire.
There were letters.
Diaries.
Proof Helen had forged the will that gave her everything after Arthur died.
Proof she’d paid off the police officer who’d taken Claire’s abuse report 20 years ago to lose it.
Proof she’d paid Voss.
Proof she’d paid the con artist to lie about James.
Proof of everything.
“I’ll testify,” Claire said. “I’ll say it all in court. I’ll stand in front of the whole world and tell them what she is. Just… don’t make me go back to her. Please.”
I stood.
Held out my hand.
“You’re family,” I said. “You never have to see her again. Not ever.”
The police pulled up 10 minutes later.
They took Claire’s statement.
Took the folder.
Put out an arrest warrant for Helen for forgery, conspiracy, custodial interference, and a dozen other felonies.
We drove home as the sun was setting, Lila asleep between Claire and me in the back seat.
I’d found Claire.
I had all the proof I needed to take Helen down forever.
The Langford closing was the next morning.
Nothing could stop me now.
My phone buzzed on the seat next to me.
It was a text from an unknown number.
A photo.
Helen being led out of her apartment in handcuffs.
Then another text.
You think this is over?
May you like
I have enough friends on the Langford board to make sure your little acquisition vote fails tomorrow.
Even in jail, I win.
