Chapter 13 - CLAIRE AND SARAH SHARED THE SAME FATHERThe DNA confirmation came from David himself.
He sent Richard old laboratory reports.
Claire Morgan and Sarah Carter shared a biological father.
David Bennett.
Two secret daughters.
Neither publicly acknowledged.
Michael stared at the reports.
“I married both of David’s daughters.”
Richard had no response.
It sounded impossible.
Grotesquely manipulated.
David had positioned Sarah first.
After Sarah’s death, Claire married Michael.
Why?
To maintain control.
The family line.
The inheritance.
Noah.
Michael whispered:
“Did Claire know?”
Richard already knew.
“Yes.”
That explained her jealousy of Sarah.
Not simply another woman.
Her sister.
The sister David had apparently favored for one part of his plan.
Claire finally called Michael.
He answered on speaker.
“Is it true?”
Silence.
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“You and Sarah were sisters.”
“Half-sisters.”
“You knew when you married me.”
“Yes.”
“Did Sarah know?”
“At the end.”
Richard heard Claire crying.
Michael’s voice became hollow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would’ve hated me.”
“You locked my son outside.”
“I know.”
“You let him beg.”
“I know.”
“Don’t use that word.”
Richard looked at his son.
Same thing Evelyn? Again this story shouldn't reference but phrase is common. Fine.
Michael continued.
“Did you love Sarah?”
Claire made a broken sound.
“When we were children, yes.”
“You knew her as children?”
“We met when I was eleven. David arranged it without telling us why.”
“Then college?”
“We chose the same school.”
“Did you love her then?”
“She had everything.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Claire’s anger surfaced.
“She had Linda. She had friends. She had you.”
Michael stared at the phone.
“And you wanted what she had.”
“I wanted one thing that wasn’t assigned to me by David.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
Michael laughed bitterly.
“And even that was part of his plan.”
Claire started sobbing.
“I didn’t know at first.”
“What did you know?”
“That he wanted me close to you after Sarah died.”
“And you did it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he had proof I helped move foundation money.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He’d been using me since I was nineteen.”
Richard stepped in.
“Claire, where are you?”
Silence.
“If you want any chance of helping yourself, tell us.”
“I can’t.”
“David is threatening you?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
A long pause.
“My daughter.”
Michael froze.
“What daughter?”
Richard stared at the phone.
Claire whispered:
“I had a baby when I was twenty.”
Silence.
“David took her.”
Michael looked stunned.
“What?”
“He told me she died.”
Richard felt a familiar horror.
Another child.
Another secret.
Claire continued.
“Two years ago, he showed me a photograph. She was alive.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s using her to control you.”
“Yes.”
Michael sat slowly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because then he would’ve hurt her.”
Michael laughed bitterly.
“So you protected your daughter by hurting my son.”
Claire began crying harder.
“I didn’t mean for Noah to get that cold.”
“What did you mean?”
“I locked him outside because I needed time to search his room.”
“For the key.”
“Yes.”
“How long did you think?”
“Ten minutes.”
“And then?”
“David called.”
“What happened?”
“He said Noah knew the phrase.”
“Winter goes home.”
“Yes.”
“You forgot him outside?”
Claire said nothing.
Michael’s face changed.
“You forgot my child outside because David called you.”
“I panicked.”
“And I stood there like a coward.”
Claire whispered:
“I knew you’d open the door.”
“You threatened me.”
“I didn’t think you would actually leave him.”
Richard looked at Michael.
Truth was ugly because blame could belong to more than one person.
Claire locked the door.
Michael failed to open it.
Both mattered.
Richard asked:
“Where is your daughter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Name?”
“Emily.”
“How old?”
“Eighteen.”
Richard’s pulse changed.
“Do you have a photo?”
“Yes.”
She sent it.
Richard opened the image.
A young woman with brown hair.
Blue eyes.
Standing outside a private school.
Michael stared.
Then his expression changed completely.
“I know her.”
Richard looked at him.
“What?”
Michael enlarged the photograph.
“She interned at the foundation last summer.”
Claire stopped breathing on the phone.
“What?”
Michael whispered:
“Her name wasn’t Emily.”
“What name?”
“Emma Cole.”
Richard looked toward Brooks.
Cole.
Dr. Henry Cole.
The physician who treated Margaret before she died.
Claire began sobbing.
“Oh my God.”
Richard suddenly saw another connection.
David had not merely hidden Claire’s daughter.
He had placed the girl inside the family foundation under the surname of the doctor linked to Margaret’s suspicious death.
May you like
And if Emma had been inside the foundation—
she might know where David was.
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