Chapter 18 - THE AUNT WHO NEVER DIED|
Beatrice Callaway had been declared dead in a boating accident twenty-six years earlier.
Eleanor remembered the funeral, the empty casket, and the letter from a maritime investigator stating that no body had been recovered. She had grieved her younger sister while trying to protect Margaret and the unborn child from the Ashcom family's growing influence.
Now Catherine was telling her that Beatrice might still be alive.
"Where is she?" Eleanor demanded.
"I don't know. Richard met her twice after the clinic fire. He said she had taken another identity and left the country."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Richard threatened to have you investigated for the missing trust documents. I believed he had proof you were involved in the clinic's financial arrangements."
Eleanor looked devastated.
"You all used my grief to keep me silent."
Catherine nodded.
"Yes."
Julian contacted Marcus and asked him to trace the false death certificate. Within hours, the team found a woman who had entered Canada under the name Beatrice Ward and later returned to the United States using a different passport.
Her most recent address was a coastal town in Maine.
Nomi insisted on going with them.
"If she's my aunt, she may know what happened to Michael."
Julian looked at her.
"She may also know who tried to kill you three years ago."
"Then I need to hear it from her."
They drove north before sunrise.
The address led them to a small blue house overlooking the water. A garden surrounded the building, and a wooden swing hung from an old maple tree. The place looked ordinary, almost peaceful.
Julian knocked.
No one answered.
Nomi noticed a light moving behind the curtains.
"Someone's home."
The door opened a moment later.
An elderly woman stood in the doorway. She had silver hair, a narrow face, and a scar across her chin. Her eyes moved from Julian to Nomi, then stopped on the long scar visible above Nomi's collar.
She made a sound like a sob.
"Margaret?"
Nomi shook her head.
"My name is Nomi."
The woman reached for the doorframe.
For several seconds, she appeared unable to breathe.
Then she whispered, "You survived."
Nomi felt her knees weaken.
"You know who I am?"
The woman nodded.
"I'm your mother's sister."
Eleanor had joined them with Catherine and Helen. When Beatrice saw her, she began to cry.
"Eleanor."
Her sister stood motionless.
"You let me bury you."
"I thought it was the only way to save Margaret and the children."
"What children?"
Beatrice looked toward Nomi.
"Margaret gave birth to twins."
The words silenced everyone.
Nomi stared at her.
"Twins?"
"A girl and a boy. The boy was taken to another ward. Richard Ashcom's people claimed he had died, but I saw him alive."
Julian felt a chill.
"Was the boy Michael?"
Beatrice nodded.
"His name was Daniel at birth. Richard changed it, then arranged for him to be raised as his younger son."
Catherine covered her mouth.
"Daniel was never my biological child."
"No," Beatrice said. "He was Margaret's son. Your family took him because they believed he would secure control of the Ashcom trust."
Nomi's hands trembled.
"Where is he now?"
Beatrice looked toward the water.
"I don't know. I helped Margaret hide the children, but someone betrayed us. Nomi was moved into foster care, and the boy was taken by Richard's men. Margaret spent years trying to find them."
"Where is my mother?"
Beatrice closed her eyes.
"She died six years ago."
Nomi staggered backward.
Eleanor caught her before she fell.
"No," Nomi whispered. "No, she can't be dead. I just found out she was alive."
Beatrice reached into her pocket and produced a folded letter.
"Margaret left this for you. She said you would find me when the time was right."
Nomi opened it with shaking hands.
My darling girl, if you are reading this, the scar has brought you home. Do not trust the records. Do not trust the inheritance. Trust only the person who remembers the lullaby.
Nomi looked up.
"What lullaby?"
Beatrice's face drained of color.
Then Julian began to hum four soft notes.
A melody his father had sung to him as a child.
Beatrice stared at him in horror.
"Who taught you that song?"
Julian swallowed.
"My father."
May you like
Beatrice backed away from the doorway.
"Then we have made a terrible mistake."
