Chapter 9: Three Daughters, One Secret
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Emily stood beside my hospital bed, trembling.
Agent Collins slowly closed her folder.
"Emily, what blue key?""
Emily shook her head.
"I don't know what it opens.""
"But your mother told you where it was?""
"Yes.""
"Where?""
Emily looked at me.
Then she whispered:
"At Dad's grave.""
I stared at her.
Our father.
The man who had raised us.
The man we'd buried twelve years ago.
The man whose photograph had been removed from our family home after his death.
"Why didn't you tell me?"" I asked.
Emily wiped her cheeks.
"Because Mom made me promise.""
"Promise what?""
"She said if I ever told anyone, people would come looking for us.""
Agent Collins stepped closer.
"Emily, this may be connected to an active federal investigation.""
Emily looked terrified.
"I don't want anything to do with the Ashfords.""
"Neither do I," I whispered.
But we both knew it wasn't that simple.
Agent Collins arranged additional security and contacted the investigators handling the original estate records.
By nine that evening, my contractions had settled enough for the doctor to allow me a short supervised transfer to another room.
I wasn't going anywhere near the cemetery.
But Emily agreed to take the agents there.
Before she left, she leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"I'll find out what Mom was hiding.""
I squeezed her hand.
"Be careful.""
She nodded.
Then she walked out with Agent Collins.
For the first time in years, I was alone with my thoughts.
I looked at the photograph of my father.
The man holding a newborn baby.
The man who'd written that he promised to bring his little girl home.
I wondered whether he'd ever intended to return.
At 9:37 p.m., my phone rang.
Emily.
I answered immediately.
"Did you find it?""
Her breathing was uneven.
"Sarah, there's something here.""
"What?""
"The grave.""
I sat up.
"What's wrong?""
"There's another name engraved on the back of the headstone.""
I frowned.
"What name?""
Emily paused.
"Robert Morgan.""
I stared at the ceiling.
"Why would his name be on our father's grave?""
"Because Mom had the headstone replaced after the funeral.""
My heart began pounding.
"Emily, where's the key?""
"I found a small metal box buried behind the headstone.""
"Open it.""
"I can't.""
"Why?""
"Because someone is here.""
I heard a car door slam.
Then Emily whispered:
"Sarah, I think Victor followed us.""
The call disconnected.
I immediately pressed the emergency button.
Within seconds, a nurse entered.
"What's wrong?""
"My sister is at the cemetery with federal agents. Someone may be following her.""
She called security.
I dialed Agent Collins.
No answer.
Then a message appeared from Emily.
A photograph.
The metal box was open.
Inside was a small blue key, a photograph of three little girls, and a folded piece of paper.
The girls were standing in front of a white house.
One was clearly me.
The second was Emily.
The third was Celeste.
All three appeared to be around the same age.
But something about the photograph was impossible.
Celeste was wearing a school uniform.
Emily was holding a teddy bear.
And I was standing between them.
The date printed on the back was five years before my parents supposedly met.
I enlarged the photograph.
There was another person in the background.
A woman standing in the doorway.
My mother.
She was holding a baby.
I zoomed in.
The baby had a hospital bracelet around her wrist.
And beneath the photograph, Emily had written:
*Sarah, we weren't raised separately. We lived together.*
I called her again.
This time she answered.
Her voice was barely audible.
"Sarah, listen to me.""
"Where are you?""
"Inside the cemetery office. The agents are outside.""
"What's happening?""
She took a shaky breath.
"I found the original birth records.""
"What do they say?""
"They say Mom gave birth to three daughters.""
I closed my eyes.
"All three of us?""
"Yes.""
"Then why did she separate us?""
Emily began crying.
"Because one of us was supposed to inherit the Ashford company.""
I stared at the phone.
"Which one?""
Emily went silent.
Then she said:
"Sarah, the papers say Celeste was supposed to inherit the shares. You were supposed to control the trust. And I was supposed to be the legal witness.""
I didn't understand.
"Why would Mom arrange that?""
"Because she knew Victor would eventually try to take everything.""
I heard footsteps on Emily's end.
Then Agent Collins's voice.
"Emily, put the documents down!""
A struggle followed.
"Rebecca?"" I shouted.
The phone fell.
Then I heard a man's voice.
"Give me the blue key.""
Victor.
Emily screamed.
I tried calling back, but the line had gone dead.
Thirty seconds later, Agent Collins finally called me.
"Sarah, listen carefully. Your sister is safe.""
I exhaled.
"Thank God. Where's Victor?""
"We have him.""
"Did you recover the documents?""
"Yes.""
"Then what is the problem?""
Agent Collins hesitated.
"We found a second envelope inside the metal box.""
"What's in it?""
"Your mother's final instructions.""
I swallowed.
"Read them.""
There was a pause.
Then Agent Collins spoke slowly.
"Sarah, your mother left a letter addressed to all three of her daughters.""
"What's it say?""
Agent Collins took a breath.
"She says none of you should ever trust the man listed as your biological father.""
My fingers went numb.
"But we already know Robert Morgan was Celeste's father.""
"That's not what she means.""
Agent Collins continued.
"Your mother identified a different man as the biological father of all three girls.""
I stared at the hospital wall.
"Who?""
Her answer came quietly.
"Victor Ashford.""
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Victor.
The man who had humiliated me.
The man who had controlled my marriage.
The man who had celebrated another man's supposed heir.
The man who had spent years trying to control three daughters.
Then Agent Collins added one final detail.
"Sarah, there's something else. Your mother wrote that Victor knows the baby you're carrying is a boy.""
I looked down at my stomach.
"And she believes he will try to take him.""
I placed both hands protectively over my unborn child.
Because suddenly, the baby shower, the mistress, the inheritance, and the years of humiliation made a terrible kind of sense.
The Ashfords hadn't been celebrating a new heir.
May you like
They'd been celebrating the return of something they believed belonged to them.
And my mother had spent her entire life trying to stop it.
