Chapter 3 - THE MAN ARTHUR TRUSTED MOST RAN
Daniel reached the hallway before Arthur caught him.
I'd never seen two grown men move that fast.
Arthur seized Daniel by the back of his coat and slammed him against the wall.
Not hard enough to hurt him badly.
Hard enough to stop him.
Nurses shouted.
A security guard approached, saw Arthur's face, and thought better of it.
“Why are you running?” Arthur asked.
Daniel raised both hands.
“I'm not.”
“You just did.”
“Because she's frightened, sick, and accusing me of something that happened ten years ago.”
Mom's voice came from the room.
“Ask him about Evelyn.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Arthur noticed.
So did I.
“Who's Evelyn?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
Mom did.
“My sister.”
Arthur slowly released Daniel.
I'd never known my mother had a sister.
She had never spoken about grandparents.
Aunts.
Uncles.
Anyone.
It had always been Mom and me.
Then the twins.
“That woman in the photograph?” I asked.
Mom nodded.
“Evelyn Sterling.”
Arthur looked at the photograph again.
“She was your aunt.”
“Where is she?”
Silence.
Mom looked away.
Arthur answered.
“She died.”
“How?”
Another silence.
This one felt worse.
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck.
“Arthur, not in front of the child.”
Mom's eyes flashed.
“She has survived things grown men couldn't. Don't you dare decide what truth she's allowed to hear.”
Arthur looked at me.
Then at Mom.
“Tell me what happened.”
Mom's fingers tightened around the hospital blanket.
“Ten years ago, Evelyn found out someone inside your organization was stealing from you.”
Daniel exhaled.
“Claire—”
“Be quiet.”
Arthur said it without raising his voice.
Daniel went silent.
Mom continued.
“Evelyn kept records. Names. Dates. Payments. She was terrified.”
Arthur's expression hardened.
“She never told me.”
“She tried.”
Mom pointed at the silver watch.
“She hid a note inside the one thing she knew you'd never throw away.”
Arthur looked at the watch.
“She said the traitor would destroy her if he knew she had evidence.”
“Who?”
Mom looked at Daniel.
But she didn't say his name.
Instead, she said something worse.
“I never found out.”
Daniel's shoulders dropped.
“You accused me for ten years without knowing?”
“I knew you were the last person to see her alive.”
Arthur turned sharply.
“What?”
Daniel stared at him.
“She asked me to drive her to Union Station.”
“You told me she left alone.”
“I lied.”
Arthur's face became terrifyingly calm.
“Why?”
“Because she made me promise.”
Mom laughed bitterly.
“Convenient.”
Daniel reached slowly into his coat.
Arthur's men moved.
Daniel stopped.
“It's a train ticket.”
Arthur nodded once.
Daniel removed an old paper ticket sealed in a plastic sleeve.
CHICAGO TO MILWAUKEE.
October 19.
Ten years earlier.
“She never boarded,” Daniel said.
Arthur looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because I waited.”
Mom frowned.
“You said you drove away.”
“I lied about that too.”
“Why?”
Daniel's eyes became wet.
“Because Evelyn was afraid Arthur would follow her.”
Arthur stared at him.
“You helped her disappear?”
“For forty-three minutes.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Then she came running back out of the station.”
“What happened?”
“She said she'd made a mistake. She told me Claire was in danger.”
Mom stopped breathing.
Daniel looked at her.
“She told me to find you.”
“You never did.”
“I tried.”
“No.”
Mom shook her head.
“You came to my apartment three days later and told me Evelyn was dead.”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“Because by then I believed she was.”
Arthur's hand closed around the old ticket.
“What happened during those three days?”
Daniel looked toward me.
Mom said, “Tell him.”
Daniel hesitated.
Then reached into his wallet.
He removed a small photograph.
A baby.
Wrapped in a yellow blanket.
My mother made a sound I'd never heard before.
“No.”
Arthur looked at the picture.
“Who is that?”
Daniel handed it to Mom.
On the back, written in faded blue ink, were two words.
For Claire.
Mom pressed her hand against her mouth.
“She was pregnant?”
Arthur's voice sounded distant.
Mom began crying.
“Evelyn?”
Daniel nodded.
Arthur sat down.
For the first time, Chicago's most feared man looked like someone had struck him in the chest.
“Whose child?”
Daniel didn't answer.
Arthur stood again.
“Whose child, Daniel?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Yours.”
The room went silent.
Even I understood enough to feel the air change.
Arthur stared at the baby photograph.
“No.”
“She never told you.”
“No.”
“She planned to.”
Arthur grabbed Daniel's shirt.
“You're lying.”
“I'm not.”
“Evelyn would have told me.”
“She was terrified the leak inside your organization would use the baby against you.”
Arthur's hand loosened.
Mom looked at the photograph again.
“Where is the child?”
Daniel swallowed.
“I don't know.”
Arthur turned on him.
“You expect me to believe you knew Evelyn had my child and said nothing for ten years?”
“I thought the baby died with her.”
Mom suddenly looked at the photograph differently.
She rubbed one corner.
Then she slid a fingernail beneath the backing.
A second, thinner photograph peeled away.
It showed a woman holding the same baby.
The woman's face wasn't visible.
But around her wrist was a distinctive bracelet.
Three tiny silver stars.
Mom stared at it.
I did too.
Because I'd seen that bracelet before.
Every day of my life.
Mom was wearing it.
Arthur looked from the picture to her wrist.
Then to me.
His face turned white.
“Claire.”
Mom shook her head violently.
“No.”
Arthur looked at me again.
“How old is Ivy?”
Mom didn't answer.
“Claire.”
“Eight.”
Arthur took one step backward.
May you like
Evelyn had disappeared nearly nine years earlier.
And suddenly everyone in that hospital room was looking at me.
