She had stayed away because she believed staying away protected Lucy.
Eleanor opened the notebook.
"The truth is here."
Victoria looked at the pages.
"What's inside?"
"Your mother's final confession."
Victoria hesitated.
Then opened it.
The first page contained a date.
September 4, 1998.
Twenty-eight years earlier.
Below it:
Richard has discovered the truth.
Victoria read the next line.
He knows the property was never his.
The next page:
He intends to destroy the agreement.
Another:
Eleanor says we must hide it.
Another:
Anna cannot know.
Victoria stopped.
"Why couldn't Anna know?"
Eleanor spoke softly.
"Because if Anna knew where the agreement was hidden, Richard would have tortured the truth out of her."
Victoria turned the page.
The final entry was dated three days before Anna disappeared.
I have hidden the agreement where Richard will never look.
Not in the house.
Not in a bank.
Not with a lawyer.
Somewhere connected to the one thing he never understood.
Love.
Victoria stared at the sentence.
"That's it?"
Eleanor nodded.
"That's all?"
"No."
She turned the notebook over.
There was a tiny indentation in the back cover.
Eleanor pressed it.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a key.
Not brass.
Silver.
Engraved with two letters.
A.W.
Lucy stared.
"Anna Whitmore?"
Eleanor shook her head.
"No."
She looked at Victoria.
"Your mother's name was Evelyn Whitmore."
Victoria's eyes widened.
"Then A.W.?"
Eleanor whispered,
"Anna's middle name."
Victoria frowned.
"Anna never had a middle name."
Eleanor smiled sadly.
"She did."
"What was it?"
"Anna Willow."
Lucy looked at the key.
"Where does it go?"
Eleanor looked toward the windows.
"Somewhere your father believed was destroyed."
Victoria stood.
"Where?"
Eleanor answered,
"The old train station."
The abandoned station stood seven miles outside Charleston.
It had been closed for decades.
Victoria remembered it from childhood.
Her father used to take her there.
He had told her the station was dangerous.
She had never understood why.
Now she knew.
The key opened a small iron door beneath the platform.
Inside was a narrow chamber.
There were boxes.
Old ledgers.
Photographs.
Legal documents.
And one wooden trunk.
Victoria opened it.
Inside was the original trust agreement.
Lucy stared.
"Oh my God."
Victoria lifted the document.
Her hands trembled.
The paper was old.
But the signatures were clear.
Evelyn Whitmore.
Richard Hale.
Two witnesses.
The agreement stated that the property belonged to Evelyn's descendants.
Not Richard.
Not the Hale corporation.
The children.
Victoria.
Anna.
And their descendants.
Lucy looked at her.
"So your father stole everything."
Victoria nodded.
"Yes."
But there was another document.
Victoria unfolded it.
It was dated five years after Anna disappeared.
The signature at the bottom belonged to Richard Hale.
The document transferred control of the estate to a private corporation.
But beneath his signature was another name.
Daniel Mercer.
Lucy stared.
"My father?"
Victoria looked at her.
"Why would Daniel sign this?"
Lucy picked up another document.
"This isn't a signature."
"What?"
"It's an affidavit."
They read it together.
Daniel Mercer had refused to sign.
He had instead written that Richard Hale had threatened Anna and Lucy.
That he had been forced to leave the state.
That he believed Anna and their daughter were in danger.
Victoria's heart broke.
Daniel had been fighting.
He hadn't abandoned them.
He had been removed.
Then Lucy found one final document.
A death certificate.
Daniel Mercer.
Died at thirty-one.
Cause: apparent accident.
Lucy went pale.
"No."
Victoria grabbed the paper.
The date was twenty-four years earlier.
Daniel had died shortly after leaving Charleston.
Lucy whispered,
"Mom told me he disappeared."
Victoria looked at Eleanor.
"Was it an accident?"
Eleanor shook her head.
"No."
"Then what happened?"
Eleanor's voice was barely audible.
"Daniel was killed."
Lucy covered her mouth.
"By whom?"
Eleanor looked at the document.
"Your grandfather."
The room went silent.
Victoria stared at the woman.
"My father killed Daniel?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel was going to expose everything."
Victoria sat down.
All the years.
All the lies.
All the missing pieces.
Suddenly the entire history of her family looked different.
Her father had not simply hidden Anna.
He had destroyed anyone who could reveal the truth.
Lucy began to cry.
Victoria reached for her.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For your father."
Lucy shook her head.
"You didn't do it."
"But I should have known."
"You were a child."
Victoria looked at her.
"I was twelve."
Lucy squeezed her hand.
"You were a child too."
Victoria looked at the trust agreement.
Then at Daniel's death certificate.
Then at the locket.
"We thought the story ended with Anna."
Lucy shook her head.
"It didn't."
"No."
Victoria folded the documents carefully.
"It started with her."
Outside, thunder rolled across the night sky.
Eleanor looked toward the dark station.
"There is one more thing."
Victoria turned.
"What?"
Eleanor's expression was grave.
"Your father wasn't the only person involved."
Victoria froze.
"Who else?"
Eleanor looked at Lucy.
"Someone who is still alive."
Lucy whispered,
"Who?"
Eleanor reached into her coat again.
She pulled out another photograph.
This one was newer.
Much newer.
Taken only six months earlier.
A man stood outside a hospital.
Victoria recognized him immediately.
Her heart stopped.
It was Edward.
But he was not alone.
Standing beside him was Walter Briggs.
The man who was supposed to be in prison.
Victoria stared at the photograph.
"That's impossible."
Eleanor shook her head.
"It was taken before Briggs was convicted."
Victoria looked closer.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten sentence.
He was never the mastermind.
Lucy looked at Victoria.
"Then who was?"
Eleanor's face became pale.
She whispered a name.
And Victoria felt the world beneath her feet disappear.
"Your father had an older brother."
Victoria stared.
"My father was an only child."
Eleanor shook her head.
"That is what everyone was told."
"Who was he?"
Eleanor looked directly at her.
"Jonathan Hale."
Victoria's mouth went dry.
"Where is he?"
Eleanor answered,
"He's been living under another name for thirty years."
"Where?"
Eleanor hesitated.