Chapter 24 - The Trail Through the Mojave
The room smelled of stale instant noodles and copper. Vanessa retreated instantly into the shadows near the unmade bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her ribs as if holding cracked bones together. She was bruised along her left cheekbone, a purple contusion spreading down into her neck.
"Did Julian do that to you?" I asked, closing the door behind me and keeping my thumb on the panic button in my pocket.
She let out a dry, bitter laugh that ended in a cough. "Julian’s goons kicked the front door off in Sedona. I jumped through the bathroom window while they were searching the master closet. Cut myself to pieces on the glass." She looked up at me, her eyes darting frantically. "Are they safe? Sophia? Mason? Did you hide them?"
The question struck me like a physical blow. For years, I had believed she cared nothing for those children—that they were an inconvenience, an anchor tying her down while she chased quick thrills and Arthur’s money.
"They are safe at the harbor estate with Leo and Mia," I said, my voice hardening. "Jonathan’s private security has the perimeter locked down. But don't you dare pretend to be a mother now, Vanessa. You dumped them on my living room floor with two dirty diaper bags and twenty dollars, and you drove off to party in Vegas."
"You think I went to Vegas to party?" Vanessa’s voice cracked, rising into an anguished shriek. "Look at me, Claire! You think this was a vacation?"
She tore open the collar of her oversized shirt. Across her collarbone was an ugly, scarred tracking device scar, and beneath it, a tattoo of a registry number from the Carson City juvenile home.
"Arthur didn't rescue me from Julian," she sobbed, tears cutting lines through the dust on her face. "Julian placed me in your house as a living wiretap! When Arthur realized Julian was using me to document his hidden accounts, Arthur locked me in a financial vice. Arthur told me if I ever told your mother, or if I ever told you the truth, he would have my adoption annulled and send me to a maximum-security youth detention center as an identity thief!"
I stood frozen. "Arthur threatened you?"
"Arthur was a monster when the doors were closed!" she cried, sinking to the edge of the mattress. "He was terrified of losing his fortune to Beatrice. He made me sign trust certifications every year on my eighteenth, twenty-first, and twenty-fifth birthdays. He held that fake identity over my head like a guillotine. When I had Sophia, Julian contacted me again. He told me if I didn't steal Arthur’s revised estate files, he would expose my birth records, have Sophia taken by child services, and leave me on the street."
She looked at me, her face contorted in raw agony.
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"I mocked you, Claire. I stood in your kitchen and told you that you were pathetic for staying home and raising your kids alone. Do you know why? Because I was jealous! I hated you because you were Arthur’s real daughter. You had his real name. You had a soul that wasn't owned by two sociopaths playing chess with millions of dollars! I brought Sophia and Mason to you because you were the only person in the entire godforsaken world who wouldn't let them be destroyed!"
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