Chapter 6 - THE CONFESSION OF A SECRETARY
Thursday morning was a blur of phone calls and hidden meetings.
My investigator found her.
Mrs. Gable.
My mother’s secretary of twenty years.
She had retired suddenly right after Rachel disappeared.
She lived in a quiet condo in Jersey.
I drove across the bridge,
my heart heavy.
When she opened the door,
she didn't look surprised to see me.
She looked relieved.
"I knew you'd come eventually, Evan," she said.
She led me into her kitchen.
"I've kept these for four years."
She pulled a file from a kitchen drawer.
Inside were the original drafts.
My mother’s handwriting.
She had practiced my signature over and over.
She had hired a professional forger to perfect it for the final letters.
And there were the photos.
Private investigators had followed Rachel for months.
Photos of her at the doctor.
Photos of her crying on her porch.
My mother had watched her suffer and done nothing.
"Why didn't you tell me, Mrs. Gable?"
"I was scared, Evan," she whispered.
"Your mother threatened my pension."
"She said it was for your own good."
"But when I saw the triplets in the investigator's final report... I couldn't stay."
"I took the files and I left."
She handed me a USB drive.
"Everything is on there."
"The emails between your mother and Noelle’s father."
"The payments to the forger."
"The plan to ensure you never saw her again."
I took the drive,
my hands shaking.
It was all there.
A systematic destruction of a woman's life.
All to protect a family's "prestige."
"Thank you," I said.
I left the house and drove back to Philly.
I didn't go to the office.
I went to Rachel’s home.
I needed to see them.
I needed to see the reason I was doing this.
I spent the afternoon on the floor of her living room.
I built towers with Chloe.
I read a book to Mia.
Rachel watched us from the doorway,
her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," I said.
"I'm so sorry for everything."
"It's not your fault, Evan," she said.
"But what are you going to do?"
"The wedding is in two days."
I looked at her.
May you like
"I'm going to the wedding," I said.
"But not to get married."
