Chapter 5 - Blood Doesn't Lie
I wanted proof before war.
By noon, a discreet medical courier arrived at the mansion with two sealed DNA kits.
Clara stared at hers.
"You think I'm lying."
"I think Marcus will say you are."
"That's not what I asked."
I held her gaze.
"I don't know what to think. Yesterday you were an employee. Today you're my sister. Give me a day to catch up."
Something in her face softened, but only slightly.
Mother watched us from the sofa.
"Do the test," she said. "Then neither of you can hide behind doubt."
We did.
The lab promised same-day priority results because money still solved some problems.
While we waited, I sent Leo to trace the sedan. The driver claimed Marcus's office manager had borrowed it. The office manager claimed the keys had been left unsecured.
Everyone had an answer.
None of them had the truth.
At three, Clara found me in the library.
"I need to show you something."
She carried an old voice recorder.
"This was my mother's. I found it in a box after she died. Most files were recipes, reminders, things she wanted to remember. One was different."
She pressed play.
Static crackled.
Then a woman's voice.
Rose.
"If Clara ever hears this, I'm sorry. I was afraid. Henry wanted to acknowledge her. Marcus said if he did, Bennett would lose the company and Henry would lose both children. He said Eleanor would fight. He said the newspapers would destroy us. I believed him."
Clara stopped the recording.
"There's more?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Play it."
"Not yet."
My temper rose. "Why?"
"Because the rest is about your mother. And I think she should be here."
That answer was fair.
I still hated it.
My phone buzzed.
The DNA result.
I opened the encrypted file.
Probability of half-sibling relationship: 99.97 percent.
I read it twice.
Then handed the phone to Clara.
Her eyes filled immediately.
"So that's it," she whispered.
"That's it."
She laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
"I spent my whole life wondering why my father didn't want me. Turns out he did. He just didn't want me enough to fight his brother."
I did not defend him.
I couldn't.
From the doorway, Mother said, "That isn't the whole story."
We turned.
She looked weaker than she had that morning.
"Henry did fight."
Clara's face tightened.
Mother reached into her robe and pulled out a folded envelope.
"He signed something two days before he died."
"What?" I asked.
"A codicil to the family trust."
My stomach dropped.
The Hale trust controlled forty-one percent of Hale Meridian Group.
Mother held out the envelope.
"It named Clara."
I took it.
The paper inside was not the codicil.
It was a handwritten note from my father.
Bennett, if Marcus tells you the codicil never existed, he is lying.
May you like
I looked at Mother.
She whispered, "The original vanished the night your father died."
