Chapter 4 - The Name on the Birth Certificate
The name on the second birth certificate was Thomas Vale.
I had never heard it before.
Mara sent me a photograph through an encrypted evidence portal. I enlarged the document until the letters blurred.
Evelyn Claire Mercer.
Mother: Diane Mercer.
Father: Thomas Adrian Vale.
Date of birth: same.
Hospital: same.
Time: 2:41 a.m.
My official birth certificate listed Richard Mercer as my father. Vanessa's listed Richard too.
"What does this mean?" I asked.
Mara sat beside the hospital window. "It means one of the documents is false."
"Which one?"
"We're checking."
"Why was it in Vanessa's safe?"
"That's the better question."
I stared at the paper.
All my life, Dad had treated Vanessa as if she were a continuation of himself and me as if I were an employee who occasionally required feeding. I had explained it by personality.
Now another explanation existed.
"Does Dad know?"
"We don't know."
"He must."
"Don't jump ahead."
But I already had.
Memories rearranged themselves. Dad refusing to come to my high school debate final. Dad paying for Vanessa's destination wedding but telling me he could not help with graduate school. Dad once screaming, "You're not mine to manage," during an argument when I was seventeen.
At the time, I thought he meant I was stubborn.
Maybe he had meant something else.
"Thomas Vale," Daniel said slowly.
I looked at him. "You know the name?"
"No. But I've seen Vale somewhere."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Mara wrote it down. "Think."
Daniel closed his eyes.
Then he opened them. "My sister's investor statements."
My pulse jumped.
"Mariner Holdings?"
"Yes. There was a Vale Advisory Group listed as a consultant on one document."
Mara immediately stood. "Can you get the statement?"
"I saved everything Sofia left."
"Bring it."
When Daniel left, I turned to Mara. "You think Thomas Vale is connected to my father's company?"
"I think coincidences are expensive."
A prosecutor arrived that afternoon.
Assistant State Attorney Camille Price was forty, sharp-eyed, and uninterested in family mythology. She had already reviewed the assault evidence.
"Your mother says she never touched you," she told me.
I almost admired the audacity.
"She says I fell?"
"She says you became emotional during an argument and stepped backward."
"Daniel saw her punch me."
"She says Daniel is a disgruntled employee who targeted the family."
"Of course."
"Your father says the same."
"And Vanessa?"
Camille opened a folder. "Vanessa says she was looking away."
I laughed.
The incision pulled painfully.
Camille watched me without sympathy. "That hurt?"
"Yes."
"Then stop laughing at people who are trying to ruin you."
I liked her instantly.
She continued. "We have the nurse's photographs, the emergency medical findings, Daniel's statement, and one guest who has agreed to speak."
"Who?"
"Melissa Grant."
I searched my memory. "Vanessa's college roommate?"
"Yes."
"She'll change her story. Vanessa owns her loyalty."
Camille leaned forward. "People rent loyalty. Nobody owns it."
She closed the folder. "Your mother will be arrested today."
My chest tightened.
I had wanted that.
Why did it feel like grief?
Because wanting consequences did not erase the fact that the woman in handcuffs would still be the woman who used to braid my hair before school.
Violence does not always erase love.
Sometimes it contaminates it.
Two hours later, Diane Mercer was arrested outside the villa.
The footage appeared online almost immediately.
She wore white linen pants and enormous sunglasses. Reporters shouted questions as officers escorted her toward a patrol car.
She turned toward the cameras.
"My daughter is mentally unstable," she said. "She has always been jealous of her sister."
I shut off the video.
Across the room, Lily slept.
"You don't have to watch," Emily said.
"I need to know what she's saying."
"No. You need to know what you're doing."
I looked at her. "What am I doing?"
"Keeping your baby alive. Let detectives keep your mother busy."
That evening, Vanessa called.
I answered because I was done being afraid of her voice.
"You had Mom arrested."
"She had herself arrested."
"You're disgusting."
"You laughed while I drowned."
Silence.
Then Vanessa whispered, "You don't understand what happened."
"I understand every second."
"No, you don't."
"Then explain."
Her breathing changed. "Dad is in trouble."
"I know."
"Not financial trouble."
I sat straighter. "What kind?"
"You can't trust Mara."
I almost laughed again. "You're warning me about trust?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Dad owes people."
"Victor Sloan?"
A pause.
Too long.
Vanessa said, "How do you know that name?"
"Goodbye."
"Evie, wait."
I did.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The eighteen thousand wasn't for me."
"Then who?"
"I can't tell you."
"You can. You won't."
"If Dad doesn't make a payment by Friday, someone gets hurt."
I looked through the NICU glass at Lily. "Someone already did."
"That wasn't supposed to happen."
The words chilled me.
"You knew Mom was going to confront me."
"Yes."
"You knew she wanted the money."
"Yes."
"Did you know she would hit me?"
"No."
"Did you know Dad would tell people to leave me in the pool?"
Vanessa began crying.
I had heard every version of her cry since childhood.
This one was real.
"I didn't know he would say that."
"But you laughed."
"I panicked."
"People don't laugh like that when they panic."
"Some do."
"Not you."
She went quiet.
Then she said, "You always think you're smarter than me."
"No. I thought you were kinder than this."
That landed.
Her voice hardened again. "Ask Mara who Thomas Vale is."
My grip tightened around the phone. "How do you know I know that name?"
Vanessa inhaled sharply.
I heard a man speaking in the background.
Not Grant.
"Who's there?" I asked.
The call ended.
I immediately dialed Mara.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then Daniel entered carrying a black document case.
"I found Sofia's statements."
I barely looked at him. "Mara isn't answering."
"She's probably working."
"Vanessa told me not to trust her."
Daniel stopped. "What?"
Before I could explain, my phone lit up with a message from an unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
Mara stood in a parking garage beside Victor Sloan.
The timestamp was from three weeks earlier.
May you like
Under the picture were six words.
Ask your detective who she works for.
