Chapter 3 - The Secret Margaret Buried for Eight Years
Nathan refused to believe it.
“My mother didn't take your father.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“But her name is on the file.”
“Her name is on everything.”
We returned to Greenwich.
Margaret was waiting in the mansion.
She stood in the sitting room in a cream suit, perfectly composed.
The moment she saw me, her expression hardened.
“You brought her here.”
Nathan looked at her.
“She is my wife.”
Margaret smiled coldly.
“That marriage is already complicated enough.”
Nathan threw the red folder onto the table.
Margaret's face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“You know what this is.”
“I've seen that before.”
“Where?”
“At Hollow Creek.”
Nathan's voice sharpened.
“You lied to me.”
“I protected you.”
“You knew Samuel Walsh.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Emily's father was in danger.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he disappeared.”
“Yes.”
Nathan stared at her.
“And you never told me.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
I stepped forward.
“From whom?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Your father.”
I froze.
“My father?”
“He discovered what the Carter family had been hiding.”
“What?”
“A financial trust.”
Nathan looked confused.
Margaret continued.
“Years before either of you were born into these businesses, your grandfathers built a private fund.”
“What kind of fund?”
“One intended to protect both families if their companies collapsed.”
I stared.
“How does my father fit into this?”
“He was the trustee.”
Nathan's face changed.
“My father?”
“No.”
Margaret looked at me.
“Your father.”
Silence.
Then she explained.
Samuel had discovered that someone was stealing from the trust.
He confronted Charles Carter.
Charles denied it.
Margaret investigated.
She discovered the missing money had been transferred into an offshore account.
But the account wasn't controlled by Samuel.
It was controlled by someone inside the Carter family.
Someone nobody suspected.
Nathan asked:
“Who?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Your uncle Richard.”
I knew the name.
Nathan's uncle had died years earlier.
A heart attack.
Margaret continued.
“Richard wanted control of the Carter company.”
“He sabotaged the trust.”
“Yes.”
“Why would my father get involved?”
“Because Samuel found him.”
Margaret turned toward me.
“Your father wanted to expose Richard.”
“And you stopped him.”
“I tried to.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard threatened Nathan.”
Nathan froze.
“What?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Richard knew you were attending the same school as Emily.”
I stared.
“You knew about me?”
“Yes.”
“You knew my family?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you let me work in your house?”
Margaret did not answer immediately.
Finally she said:
“Because I was watching you.”
My stomach dropped.
Nathan's expression became furious.
“You hired her?”
“I allowed the employment.”
“You knew who she was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Samuel was her father.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew she was caring for three children.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Because I needed to know whether she had the documents.”
“What documents?”
“The trust records.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I didn't know anything.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why treat me like dirt?”
“Because if anyone suspected I knew you, you would become a target.”
Nathan stared at her.
“So you humiliated my wife to protect her?”
Margaret's voice broke.
“I did what I thought would keep her alive.”
“That isn't protection.”
“No,” she whispered.
“It was the only thing I knew.”
I turned away.
All those years.
Every insult.
Every whisper.
Every time Margaret told me to stay in the servants' area.
Every time she looked at me as though I had contaminated the family.
She had known exactly who I was.
She had known I was Samuel Walsh's daughter.
She had known my family.
She had known my father might still be alive.
Nathan looked at his mother.
“Where is he?”
Margaret hesitated.
“What?”
“Where is Samuel?”
She looked away.
“I don't know.”
Nathan's voice became cold.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You knew about him.”
“Yes.”
“You know he disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“But you don't know where he is.”
“I haven't seen him in eight years.”
I asked:
“Is he alive?”
Margaret said nothing.
That silence was enough.
I began crying.
Nathan came toward me.
Margaret watched.
Then she said:
“He is alive.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Samuel is alive.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Who has him?”
She hesitated.
“Richard.”
Nathan stared.
“Richard is dead.”
Margaret nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then who?”
She whispered a name.
“Elias Carter.”
Nathan's face went white.
His older cousin.
The man who currently served on the board of Carter Holdings.
He was the most powerful person in the family after Nathan.
And he had always claimed to hate conflict.
Nathan grabbed his phone.
He called Elias.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then his phone received a message.
A photograph.
My father.
Alive.
Older.
Sitting in a chair.
His wrists were bound.
Underneath the photograph was one sentence.
Tell the girl to bring the trust.
Nathan looked at me.
May you like
I knew immediately.
They had found us.
