Chapter 4 - THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPHS
The briefcase contained more than one photograph.
Maya at twelve.
Maya at sixteen.
Maya entering college.
Maya leaving the hospital after Rose’s birth.
Someone had watched her for years.
Ethan stared at the images.
“You knew about this?”
Victoria did not answer.
Maya lifted the photograph from the hospital.
Rose was only three days old.
Victoria had told Maya she was too busy to visit that afternoon.
Yet her black sedan could be seen in the background.
“You were there.”
Victoria’s eyes moved toward the picture.
“I wanted to make sure the child was healthy.”
“You stood outside.”
“You never came in.”
“I had reasons.”
Maya stepped closer.
“Were you watching me for Vaughn?”
Ethan seized his mother’s arm.
“Answer her.”
Victoria pulled free.
“Conrad contacted me after you announced your engagement.”
“He said Maya resembled someone connected to an old business dispute.”
“What dispute?”
“The Cross patents.”
Vance’s voice became cold.
“Those patents were stolen.”
Victoria looked at him.
“They were purchased legally.”
“Using documents signed three days after General Cross disappeared.”
Vance placed the photographs back inside the briefcase.
“Documents bearing the signature of a dead attorney.”
Several executives exchanged uneasy looks.
The merger was no longer merely delayed.
It was becoming evidence.
Maya looked at Ethan.
“Did you know any of this?”
“No.”
“Did you know your mother had me followed?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation answered her.
“I knew she ran a background check.”
“For how long?”
“I thought it ended before our wedding.”
Maya’s eyes filled with tears.
“You knew she was watching me, and you said nothing.”
“I did not want another argument.”
“You wanted peace.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She held Rose tighter.
“You wanted silence.”
Military investigators arrived twenty minutes later.
They sealed the ballroom.
Phones were temporarily collected.
Witnesses were separated.
A federal investigator named Agent Lena Brooks asked Maya to describe everything known about her childhood.
Maya explained that a truck driver found her beside Highway 54.
She wore a torn red dress.
The silver medal hung around her neck.
The blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.
She could not speak for nearly six months.
She entered foster care under the temporary name Maya Reed.
No relatives were found.
Agent Brooks listened carefully.
“Do you remember anything before the highway?”
“Fragments.”
“What kind?”
“A woman singing.”
“Smoke.”
“A black car.”
“And a man wearing a ring with a blue stone.”
Victoria’s wineglass slipped from her hand.
It shattered.
Everyone turned.
Maya stared at her.
May you like
Victoria wore a large sapphire ring on her right hand.
The same hand she had used to slap Maya.
