Chapter 6
Grace did not die in hiding.
She died running.
Ruth told me everything.
Eight days earlier, Vale men found the small rental house where Grace, Ava and Ruth had been living under different names.
Grace saw them first.
She pushed Ava toward Ruth.
Told them to run through the back.
Then stayed behind.
“Why?”
I asked even though I knew.
Ruth looked at me.
“To give them time.”
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
“We heard shouting.”
Ruth stopped.
I didn't force details.
Didn't need them.
“Did Grace get out?”
Ruth nodded.
“For a while.”
Hope hurt.
“She met us two streets away.”
I stared.
“She was injured.”
Ruth's voice broke.
“Not badly at first.”
Then infection.
Exhaustion.
Years of untreated problems.
Fear of hospitals controlled by people she believed belonged to Mara.
Grace lasted four days.
Four days holding Ava.
Four days telling her how to find me.
Four days preparing a six-year-old to walk into the life she had been taught to fear.
“What did Grace say?”
Ruth reached into her cardigan.
A folded piece of cloth.
Not a letter.
A small red ribbon.
Tied around a brass key.
Ava's red key.
Mara lunged.
My men stopped her.
I stared.
“You knew Ruth had it.”
Mara's face changed.
There.
That was why Ava stayed in the wall.
Mara had the child.
But not the key.
Marco had locked Ruth in the cottage.
They were trying to separate information.
Pressure both sides until someone broke.
I took the key.
Mara laughed.
“Congratulations.”
I looked at her.
“You don't even know what's inside the box.”
“No.”
“But you're terrified.”
Her smile disappeared.
Good.
Ruth continued.
“Grace told Ava one thing.”
“What?”
“Find Daddy.”
My throat tightened.
“She believed me again?”
Ruth nodded.
“Eventually.”
“How?”
Ruth looked down.
“Because Ava remembered you.”
Silence.
“She remembered your tattoos.”
My eyes went to my arms.
Ava had touched my neck when she crawled from the wall.
Not random.
She remembered.
Ruth continued.
“She remembered you singing badly.”
I almost laughed.
Grace used to insult my singing constantly.
“She remembered you carrying her on your shoulders.”
My eyes burned.
Four years stolen.
But not erased.
Ruth looked at me.
“Grace realized Mara had lied because Ava kept remembering a father who loved her.”
Mara rolled her eyes.
“A two-year-old remembers fantasies.”
I turned.
She continued.
“You all want this to be romantic.”
“No.”
I held up the key.
“I want the box.”
The old west-room strongbox still existed.
My father had built it into the wall behind his private library.
I had never opened it.
Didn't know how.
The red key fit.
Inside were no stacks of cash.
No jewels.
One old Carter signet.
Three Vale rings.
And a small mechanical recorder.
Marco whispered:
“No.”
Mara closed her eyes.
I picked it up.
My father's voice crackled through the speaker.
“If Ryan is hearing this, then the Vale problem reached my son.”
May you like
My blood went cold.
My father had known Mara's family was inside mine years before I married her.
