Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO KEPT THE RECORDS
“Eleanor Marsh is still working?”
Roman stared at Michael.
Eleven years of silence had convinced him his mother's nurse had disappeared.
Now her name was attached to an operating medical transport company.
Michael nodded.
“The company is registered in Lancaster County. It provides nonemergency transportation and assisted transfers.”
Teresa sat down heavily.
“She used to say the safest place to hide was somewhere people expected you to be.”
Vanessa looked toward the door.
“My father knows the company.”
Roman turned.
“How?”
“He once asked me to persuade Eleanor to sell it.”
“Why?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“She refused to give him access to her old records.”
Roman studied her.
“And you didn't think that was strange?”
“I thought it was another business dispute.”
Roman's face hardened.
“Everything is a business dispute until somebody gets hurt.”
Vanessa said nothing.
I should have left.
I had already asked to go home.
But the photograph of my brother wouldn't leave my thoughts.
Daniel had spent his entire childhood paying for something he never understood.
And my mother had carried the guilt alone.
“I want to go with you,” I said.
Roman looked surprised.
“Emma, you don't owe my family anything.”
“This is about my family now.”
He studied me.
Then nodded.
“We'll go together.”
The next morning, Roman, Teresa, Michael, and I traveled to Pennsylvania.
Vanessa remained at the estate under the supervision of Roman's security team.
She had surrendered her phone and agreed not to contact her father until Roman understood the situation.
Before leaving, Roman had spoken to Mia.
“Daddy has to find someone important.”
“Grandma?”
“Maybe.”
Mia hugged him.
“Bring her home if she's nice.”
Roman smiled sadly.
“She was.”
Lancaster County was quiet beneath an overcast sky.
Eleanor's business operated from a small brick building behind a medical clinic.
No luxury cars.
No armed guards.
Just two wheelchair-accessible vans and a faded sign.
Inside, a receptionist told us Eleanor was reviewing patient schedules.
Roman asked to see her.
When Eleanor entered, she stopped so suddenly that her clipboard fell.
“Roman?”
She was in her seventies, with silver hair and tired eyes.
Roman stood.
“Do you know where my mother is?”
Eleanor gripped the back of a chair.
“I wondered when you'd come.”
Roman's voice broke.
“Eleven years.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I know.”
“Where is she?”
“Before I tell you, I need to know whether you've cut ties with the Hartwells.”
Roman answered immediately.
“I've suspended every contract involving their companies.”
Eleanor looked at Teresa.
“And the engagement?”
Roman hesitated.
“It's not going forward.”
Eleanor seemed relieved.
Then she looked at me.
“Margaret's daughter.”
I nodded.
She reached for my hand.
“Your mother is the bravest woman I've ever known.”
I wanted to believe her.
But I remembered Daniel's surgeries.
“Then why did she have to keep paying for your bravery?”
Eleanor's face fell.
“Because the people responsible made sure she had no safe way out.”
She led us into her office.
On the wall hung photographs of patients smiling beside nurses.
One photograph caught Roman's attention.
A woman in a wheelchair stood in a garden.
Her face was partly turned away.
But the silver necklace around her throat was unmistakable.
Roman approached it.
“My father gave her that necklace.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Your mother loved it.”
“Where was this taken?”
“Four years ago.”
Roman turned.
“She's alive?”
Eleanor looked at him carefully.
“She was alive when that photograph was taken.”
His hope flickered.
“Was?”
Eleanor opened a filing cabinet.
“Elizabeth suffered a severe brain injury in the crash. Her memory returned slowly. Some years were better than others.”
She removed a folder.
“She eventually understood that someone had deliberately caused the accident. But she was afraid to contact you.”
“Because of Hartwell?”
“Because someone inside your father's shipping company helped him.”
Roman stared.
“Who?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“We never knew for certain.”
Teresa spoke.
“That's why Elizabeth stayed away?”
“She thought exposing herself would put Roman in danger.”
Eleanor opened the folder.
Inside were medical notes, photographs, and copies of letters Elizabeth had written but never sent.
Roman picked up one.
My dear Roman, I know you must think I abandoned you. Every morning I wake up wanting to explain.
He couldn't continue reading.
I looked away to give him privacy.
Then Eleanor showed us another photograph.
Taken seven months earlier.
Elizabeth was seated beside a woman in a blue coat.
The woman held a familiar handbag.
My mother's handbag.
“Margaret visited her,” Eleanor said.
I stared.
“My mother told me she hadn't traveled in years.”
“She came because Elizabeth wanted to give her something.”
“What?”
Eleanor opened a small drawer.
She removed a hospital discharge form.
At the bottom was Elizabeth's signature.
Above it, a destination address had been written.
A private assisted-living residence near Princeton, New Jersey.
Roman looked up.
“My mother came back to New Jersey?”
Eleanor nodded.
“She wanted to be closer to you.”
“Then why didn't she contact me?”
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“Because three months after she moved, someone took her from the residence.”
Roman went rigid.
“Who?”
Eleanor placed a photograph on the desk.
A security camera had captured a black sedan outside the building.
Beside it stood a man in a gray jacket.
Roman leaned forward.
His face changed.
“That man works for me.”
Michael studied the image.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Sir, that's your chief financial officer, Patrick Vale.”
