Chapter 5 - THE DAY MY CHILDREN BECAME WEAPONS
"They're coming after my children?"
I barely recognized my own voice.
Lucas took the tablet from my shaking hands.
"The petition was submitted electronically less than an hour ago. It hasn't been decided. It's an attempt to drag you into court."
Ethan's expression hardened.
"Raymond won't get anywhere near them."
"That isn't your decision," I snapped.
He looked at me.
I could see the instinct in him—the instinct to issue orders and expect everyone else to obey.
But Noah and Sophie weren't members of his organization.
They were children.
My children.
"You don't get to solve this by making people afraid," I said. "That's exactly the world I wanted them protected from."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
"You're right."
The simple answer surprised me.
Lucas continued.
"Raymond's petition suggests Claire fabricated the children's paternity to obtain access to Sullivan assets."
I laughed bitterly.
"I raised them on a pharmacy salary and weekend bookkeeping jobs. I never asked Ethan for a cent."
"That's why his argument may be weak," Lucas said. "But public attention makes everything harder."
Margaret rose from her chair.
"I'll speak to Raymond."
Ethan turned toward her.
"You won't speak to anyone until you've told us everything."
Margaret stiffened.
"I'm still your mother."
"And they're still my children."
For a moment, I saw real hurt in her expression.
Then she looked toward the hallway.
"Where are they?"
"Safe," I said.
Her eyes filled.
"I know you don't believe me, Claire, but I never wanted them hurt."
"Then you should have protected them from the truth you helped create."
She accepted that without arguing.
It was the first time I had seen Margaret Sullivan remain silent when someone criticized her.
Lucas suggested we leave through a service exit before reporters gathered outside.
I agreed.
But when we entered the sitting room, Sophie was sitting alone on the sofa, holding her small red purse.
Noah stood beside the window.
"Where's your security officer?" I asked.
"Outside," Noah answered.
"Did anything happen?"
Sophie looked down.
"Someone sent us a present."
My heart stopped.
"What present?"
She opened her purse and removed a velvet pouch.
Inside was a delicate gold necklace.
A tiny heart-shaped pendant hung from its chain.
On the back were two engraved initials.
N & S.
I recognized it immediately.
Ten years earlier, Margaret had shown me a photograph of a Sullivan family necklace.
She told me it had belonged to Ethan's grandmother.
"Who gave you this?" I asked.
Sophie pointed toward the door.
"A lady said it was from our grandma."
Ethan stepped forward.
"Which lady?"
"The one with the green dress."
Vivian.
I looked toward the hallway.
Vivian stood near the entrance, her face pale.
"I gave it to them because Margaret asked me to."
Margaret shook her head.
"No, I didn't."
Vivian frowned.
"You told me to give the necklace to the children when the truth came out."
"Ten years ago," Margaret whispered. "I told you that ten years ago."
Vivian reached for the back of a chair.
For the first time, she looked frightened.
"I thought you still wanted them to have it."
I opened the pendant.
Inside were two tiny photographs.
One showed Ethan as a little boy.
The other was blank.
I stared at the empty frame.
"Why is there no photograph in this side?"
Margaret's face crumpled.
"Because I was supposed to put my grandchildren there."
Sophie looked up.
"Grandma bought it for us?"
Margaret nodded, unable to speak.
I watched my daughter's expression soften.
And that frightened me more than her rejection had.
Children wanted to believe people loved them.
They had no idea how much damage adults could do while claiming love.
I knelt beside Sophie.
"You don't have to wear it."
She thought about that.
"Can I keep it until I decide?"
"Of course."
Noah approached Ethan.
"I have a question."
Ethan crouched.
"Anything."
"Did you really throw money at Mom?"
The room went silent.
I hadn't told the twins every detail.
But they'd seen enough of the interview coverage to find out.
Ethan's face tightened.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I was angry, and I behaved terribly."
Noah stared at him.
"Did you think she was poor?"
"No."
"Then why thirty dollars?"
Ethan swallowed.
"I wanted to hurt her."
The answer was simple.
And devastating.
Noah stepped backward.
"That's a mean thing to do."
"Yes," Ethan said. "It was."
For several seconds, they looked at each other.
Then Noah said, "You shouldn't do that to people."
"I know."
"Especially Mom."
Ethan nodded.
"Especially your mom."
I had spent ten years afraid my children would someday think I kept them away from their father because I was bitter.
Now I watched Ethan tell them the truth without trying to make himself look better.
It didn't repair anything.
But it mattered.
We left through a side corridor.
Two security vehicles waited outside.
I refused Ethan's offer to take us to his mansion.
Instead, I agreed to spend the night at a private hotel Lucas knew, away from reporters.
Ethan didn't argue.
He simply asked whether he could make sure we arrived safely.
I permitted Marcus to coordinate with Lucas.
Nothing more.
At the hotel, the twins fell asleep in adjoining beds.
I stood by the window watching the Chicago skyline.
Lucas sat at the small desk, reviewing what Vivian had provided.
"There's something strange," he said.
I turned.
"What?"
"Raymond didn't start preparing his petition tonight."
He showed me a dated electronic receipt.
"It was drafted four days ago."
I frowned.
"Before we arrived at the gala?"
"Yes."
"How could he have known?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately.
Then he turned his laptop toward me.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Noah and Sophie outside their school in Milwaukee.
The timestamp was from the previous Tuesday.
Someone had photographed them walking toward my car.
Beneath the image was a short message included in the petition's supporting material.
SUBJECTS CONFIRMED. MOTHER PREPARING CONTACT.
My stomach turned.
"Someone has been watching us."
Lucas nodded.
Then he enlarged the bottom of the photograph.
There, reflected in my car window, was a familiar figure.
A man wearing a dark overcoat and holding a silver-handled cane.
I recognized him from old Sullivan family gatherings.
Raymond Kessler.
But Lucas pointed to someone standing beside him.
A woman in a beige coat.
Her face was partially hidden.
And around her wrist was a narrow gold watch with a cracked face.
Vivian Mercer.
May you like
Lucas looked at me.
"Claire, I don't think Vivian came to the gala to confess. I think she came because someone found out she was helping Raymond watch your children."
