Chapter 10 - The Wife in the Photograph
Jonathan Beaumont had buried his wife beneath a white marble angel. He had stood beside Amelia in the rain. He had watched the coffin lowered.
Now his daughter was telling him Eleanor might be alive.
“That’s impossible.”
Amelia’s face was pale. “I saw her.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Where?”
“Montreal.”
Jonathan laughed once. “No.”
“She had the scar.”
“That proves nothing.”
“She knew things.”
“What things?”
Amelia swallowed. “The night I was born, you fainted.”
Jonathan froze. Very few people knew. Eleanor had teased him for years.
“She knew the song you played at your wedding.”
“Public record.”
“She knew you kept my first tooth in your desk.”
His eyes filled. “No.”
Amelia stepped closer. “She knew your nickname for me.”
Jonathan whispered, “Sunshine.”
“Yes.”
He turned away. Eleanor had died in a private plane crash. The bodies were badly burned. Identification relied on dental records.
Sarah asked, “Who handled the identification?”
Jonathan answered automatically. “Charles.”
Every eye turned toward his attorney.
Charles smiled from police custody. “There it is.”
Jonathan lunged. Marcus caught him.
“You forged her death?”
Charles shrugged. “I facilitated paperwork.”
“Where is Eleanor?”
“I don’t know.”
Jonathan fought Marcus. “Tell me!”
Charles laughed. “I truly don’t.”
Amelia said, “He might be telling the truth.”
Jonathan looked at her. “How can you say that?”
“Because Mom was working with him.”
Silence.
“She what?”
Amelia’s eyes filled. “She helped create the shell companies.”
Jonathan stopped. “No.”
“She was a lawyer before we were born.”
“I know what she was.”
“She discovered weaknesses in Beaumont governance.”
“She would never steal from me.”
“Maybe she didn’t see it as stealing.”
Jonathan stared.
Amelia continued. “She told me the family fortune had swallowed you.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She said she wanted to break the machine.”
“So she became a criminal?”
“I don’t know.”
Charles smiled. “She became practical.”
Jonathan turned. “You shut up.”
Charles did.
Sarah led him away.
The reunion between Jonathan and Amelia did not happen the way anyone imagined. No embrace. No music. No miracle. They stood facing each other with seven years between them.
Jonathan spoke first. “I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“I searched everywhere.”
“I know.”
“I spent millions.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you call?”
Amelia looked toward the stairs. “Lily.”
“What about her?”
“They threatened her.”
“Who?”
“I still don’t know.”
“That is not good enough.”
“It had to be.”
Jonathan’s anger rose. “You let your child grow up in an orphanage.”
The words hit. Amelia flinched.
“I know.”
“She thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“She cried tonight because someone accused her of theft.”
“I know.”
Jonathan’s voice broke. “Then why?”
Amelia began crying. “Because the first time I tried to get her back, someone broke into Saint Agnes and left a photograph of her sleeping.”
Jonathan went still.
“They said if I approached her, she died.”
His anger vanished.
Amelia continued. “I watched from a distance.”
“You should have told me.”
“I thought you were compromised.”
“You thought I would hurt her?”
“I thought someone around you would.”
Fair. Again. Jonathan hated how often that word appeared.
From upstairs came a child’s voice.
“Mama?”
Amelia froze.
Lily stood at the top of the stairs holding Mr. Buttons.
Everyone turned.
Lily stared at Amelia.
Amelia covered her mouth. “Baby.”
Lily hesitated. Then ran.
Amelia dropped to her knees. Lily flew into her arms. The entire ballroom cried. Even Sarah looked away.
Amelia held her daughter as if trying to repair two lost years in one embrace.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mama.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where were you?”
Amelia sobbed. “Trying to come home.”
Lily touched her face. “You came.”
“Yes.”
Jonathan stood several feet away. He wanted to join them. He did not. This moment belonged to them.
Then Lily looked over Amelia’s shoulder. “Grandpa man.”
Jonathan smiled through tears.
Amelia looked at him. For the first time, her expression softened.
“Grandpa?”
Lily nodded. “He has sad eyes.”
Amelia laughed while crying. “He always did.”
Jonathan stepped closer. His daughter held out one hand. He took it. Three generations stood together. Broken. Alive. Not healed. But together.
Then every phone in the ballroom buzzed.
A news alert.
BEAUMONT BILLIONAIRE’S “DEAD” WIFE SPOTTED AT JFK.
A security photograph showed Eleanor Beaumont entering New York that afternoon.
Jonathan stared.
In her hand was a gold ring.
May you like
Identical to Amelia’s.
Before Eleanor arrived, Amelia told Jonathan the part she had hidden even from Sarah. Three years earlier in Montreal, the woman she believed was Eleanor had followed her into a church. “She didn’t approach me,” Amelia said. “She sat three pews behind me and sang the moon song under her breath.” Jonathan closed his eyes. “Eleanor hated singing.” “She hated singing in front of you because you corrected the melody.” He looked offended. “I did not.” Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Dad.” “Fine.” The old memory felt almost sacred after years of absence. “Why didn’t you speak to her?” “I did. Outside. She told me to stay away from Lily.” “Why?” “Because Charles had found her again.” Jonathan paced. “And you believed her?” “I believed the fear in her face.” “Did she ask about me?” Amelia looked down. “Yes.” His pace stopped. “What did she ask?” “Whether you still kept her garden.” Jonathan turned toward the window. Eleanor’s rose garden had been maintained exactly as she left it. He had told almost no one why. “What did you say?” “I said you cut one rose every Sunday and put it beside her photograph.” He wiped his eyes angrily. Amelia stepped closer. “She cried.” They stood in silence. “Maybe she loved us,” Amelia said, “and still made terrible choices.” Jonathan nodded. “Those things can coexist.” “I’m learning that.” “So am I.” Their reunion had no easy absolution because both were finally old enough to know love did not erase damage. When Lily came downstairs looking for water, she found them sitting side by side. “Are you still mad?” she asked. Amelia looked at Jonathan. “A little.” Jonathan nodded. “A lot.” Lily accepted this. “Can you still sit together?” “Apparently,” Jonathan said. She smiled. “Then okay.” An hour later, the doors opened and Eleanor walked in wearing the second ring, carrying enough secrets to test that fragile peace immediately.
