Chapter 5 - Sister's Confession
I handed the manila folder back to Julian and bolted toward the backyard, drawing my pocket knife. I sprinted around the perimeter of the house, only to find my sister, Clara, standing by the glass sliding doors, holding a large box of baby clothes and crying silently.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, dropping the knife back into my pocket. "Clara! You scared the hell out of me. Why didn't you come to the front?"
Clara looked terrified, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. "I was afraid Mom's private investigator was watching the front driveway. Mark... we need to talk. Right now."
I unlocked the sliding door and brought Clara inside into the study, closing the blinds. I poured her a glass of water, which she held with trembling hands.
"What private investigator?" I asked, my heart pounding.
"Mom hired a man named Frank Vance—a distant cousin who works as a dirty private detective," Clara confessed, her voice shaking. "She hired him weeks ago to stalk Anna. Mom was looking for anything—any past mistake, any ex-boyfriend, any lie—to destroy Anna's reputation in court and file for sole custody of your baby once she forced you to divorce her!"
"That sick, twisted monster," I spat, slammed my fist onto the desk.
"There's more," Clara continued, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "When I spoke to you on the phone three days ago, I realized I couldn't keep lying for her anymore. Seven years ago, when Mom made me scrub those floors after my miscarriage, it wasn't just about 'discipline.' She found out my husband at the time was planning to audit the family trust funds. She used my physical breakdown to convince my ex-husband that I was mentally unstable. She ruined my marriage, Mark! She drove him away so he wouldn't uncover her embezzlement!"
I pulled Clara into a tight embrace as she sobbed against my shoulder. The full extent of my mother's megalomania was finally laying bare before me. Evelyn Vance was not just a strict, controlling matriarch—she was a sociopath who viewed her own children as pawns and destroyed anyone who threatened her financial empire.
"Where is she now, Clara?" I demanded, looking into her eyes. "Where is Evelyn staying?"
"She's staying at the Grand Regency Hotel downtown," Clara replied. "Frank Vance is meeting her there tonight. They've forged documents, Mark. They're planning to file an emergency petition with Child Protective Services tomorrow morning, claiming that Anna is mentally unfit, addicted to prescription pills, and that you are enabling her!"
My blood ran hot with fury. They were trying to take our newborn child before she was even born.
"She won't get the chance," I said, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. "We're going to trap her in her own game."
Just then, the door to the study opened slowly. Anna was standing at the door frame, holding her belly. She had heard everything.
Instead of breaking down, however, a strange, resolute fire burned in Anna's eyes. She walked in, looked at Clara, and then looked at me.
"I am done hiding, Mark," Anna said firmly. "I've been terrified of your mother since the day she moved in. But she isn't going to touch our daughter. Let's finish this."
"Anna, you're due in less than a week, you need to rest," I pleaded.
"No," Anna said, stepping closer and taking my hand. "My father died thinking he was a failure. Now I find out your mother stole his legacy and abused us both. I want to meet her face to face—with our lawyers."
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At that exact moment, Anna gasped loudly, clutching her lower abdomen as a sudden, powerful surge of pain contorted her face. Water trickled down onto the hardwood floor.
Her labor had begun.
