Chapter 3 - Uncle Daniel Comes HomeDaniel Montgomery entered the mansion as though he had never left it.
The mansion behind them seemed to hold its breath.
Claire looked from Emma to Edward.
Edward’s face had gone completely colorless.
“Take the girls inside,” he told Mrs. Alvarez, the housekeeper.
Emma immediately tightened her grip around Claire.
“No!”
“Emma.”
“You’re sending her away because of Mommy!”
“I said inside.”
“I hate you!”
The words struck harder than the child intended.
Edward actually flinched.
Claire saw it.
So did Emma.
Her anger vanished almost instantly, replaced by guilt, but Edward turned away before she could take the words back.
Claire crouched beside both girls.
“Go with Mrs. Alvarez for a few minutes.”
“You’ll leave,” Lily whispered.
“I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Promise?”
Claire hesitated.
Edward noticed.
“Promise,” she finally said.
The girls reluctantly followed the housekeeper.
Claire waited until the doors closed.
Then she faced Edward.
“You’re going to explain this.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“That might have worked ten minutes ago.”
Edward walked toward the study.
Claire followed him.
He shut the door once they were inside.
The silver key remained on his desk.
“What letter did Caroline write?”
Edward poured himself water, but his hand shook enough that the glass rattled against the decanter.
Claire had never seen him nervous.
Not once.
“Emma misunderstood.”
“Then explain what she misunderstood.”
Edward looked toward the windows.
“My wife suffered from severe anxiety after Lily was born.”
Claire said nothing.
“She became convinced she was failing as a mother.”
“Did she write you a letter?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Gone.”
Claire glanced at the silver key.
“Was it in the drawer?”
Edward didn’t answer.
“Is that what’s missing?”
“Yes.”
Claire’s confusion deepened.
“And you thought I took it?”
“I found you in Caroline’s bedroom yesterday.”
“You found me carrying your daughter out from under the bed.”
“The drawer was opened later.”
“I didn’t touch it.”
Edward stared at her.
For the first time, Claire saw uncertainty behind his anger.
She crossed her arms.
“What did the letter say?”
“That is private.”
“Your six-year-old believes it contains something terrible about you.”
“She heard something she shouldn’t have heard.”
“What?”
Edward looked exhausted suddenly.
Older.
“Two weeks ago, I was speaking with my attorney. Emma was behind the study door.”
“What did she hear?”
“That Caroline blamed me.”
“For what?”
Edward’s eyes lowered.
“For her death.”
Claire stopped breathing for half a second.
Caroline Montgomery had died three years earlier.
Everyone in the house knew the official story.
A rainy night.
A winding road.
A car leaving the pavement.
A tragic accident.
Edward had never discussed it.
There were photographs of Caroline throughout the mansion, but almost no stories.
Claire had once asked Mrs. Alvarez what Caroline had been like.
The housekeeper had simply said, “Kind.”
Then she had walked away.
Claire looked at Edward.
“Why would Caroline blame you for an accident?”
“She didn’t.”
“You just said—”
“She blamed me for what happened before the accident.”
He sat behind the desk.
That frightened Claire more than his anger.
Edward Montgomery never sat when he was losing control.
“The night Caroline died,” he said, “we argued.”
“About what?”
“My work. My absence. My inability to be present for anything that mattered.”
Claire remained silent.
“She told me she was leaving.”
“With the girls?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her she wouldn’t last a month without me.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“I told her she was unstable. Emotional. That no court would trust her with the children if I chose to fight.”
Edward’s voice had grown quiet.
“I knew exactly where to hurt her.”
Claire suddenly understood why he never spoke about Caroline.
Not because grief was private.
Because shame was.
“She left the house after the argument,” he continued. “There was heavy rain. She was upset.”
“And she crashed.”
“Yes.”
“You weren’t responsible for the accident.”
“I gave her every reason to be on that road.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“It was to me.”
Claire studied him.
“You’ve been punishing yourself for three years.”
Edward gave a humorless laugh.
“You think you understand me because you’ve lived here eleven months?”
“No. I think your daughters understand you because they’ve lived here their whole lives.”
That landed.
Edward looked at her sharply.
“They believe you don’t love them.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“Emma told me exactly that this morning.”
He stood.
“What?”
“She said you don’t like things from them.”
Edward stared at her.
“Lily picked you a flower. Emma told her you wouldn’t want it.”
His face changed again.
Claire had seen powerful men embarrassed before.
This was something deeper.
“What have you been doing every night?” Claire asked.
“What?”
“After they sleep.”
“That is none of your concern.”
“You check their doors.”
Edward remained silent.
“I’ve heard you,” Claire said. “Around midnight. Sometimes later. You walk down the hallway. You stop outside both rooms.”
He looked away.
“You don’t go inside.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re sleeping.”
“No. Why?”
His jaw clenched.
Finally he whispered, “Because Caroline used to do it.”
Claire felt the anger inside her soften slightly.
Edward moved toward the fireplace.
“She would check them twice every night. I used to complain that she was making them dependent.”
“And now?”
“Now I stand outside their rooms because I can’t remember the last night she did it.”
Claire exhaled.
“Your daughters don’t need a ghost standing outside the door, Edward.”
It was the first time she had used his first name.
He noticed.
“They need their father to walk inside.”
Before Edward could respond, someone knocked.
Mrs. Alvarez entered.
“Sir?”
“What?”
“There’s a problem.”
She held something in her hand.
A photograph.
Old.
Bent at one corner.
Edward stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“Miss Emma gave it to me.”
Claire stepped closer.
The photograph showed Caroline sitting on the garden steps with infant Lily in her arms and toddler Emma beside her.
On the back were several handwritten words.
Edward took the photograph.
His hand trembled.
Claire leaned closer.
The handwriting read:
If anything happens to me, ask Daniel about the trust.
Claire looked at Edward.
“Who is Daniel?”
He didn’t answer.
Mrs. Alvarez did.
“Mr. Daniel Montgomery.”
Claire frowned.
Edward’s brother.
A man Claire had never met.
Mrs. Alvarez looked nervous.
“He returns from London tonight.”
Edward’s expression hardened instantly.
Claire saw a completely different emotion replace grief.
Suspicion.
Then fear.
He looked at the photograph again.
“If Daniel has the letter…”
Claire waited.
Edward reached for his phone.
His voice changed to the cold, controlled tone that had built an empire.
“Lock the front gates.”
Mrs. Alvarez stared.
“Sir?”
“Now.”
He looked at Claire.
“And you’re not leaving.”
Claire folded her arms.
“Five minutes ago you fired me.”
“I was wrong.”
“That isn’t an apology.”
Edward stared at her.
The housekeeper looked between them.
Finally, through visibly clenched pride, Edward said, “Claire, I apologize.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“For?”
His jaw tightened.
“For accusing you without evidence.”
“And?”
He looked irritated.
“For firing you.”
“And?”
Mrs. Alvarez coughed to hide a smile.
Edward sighed.
“And for acting like an arrogant fool.”
Claire nodded.
“Better.”
Then the front gate intercom buzzed.
All three of them turned toward the monitor on Edward’s desk.
A black Bentley waited outside.
The security camera showed a silver-haired man stepping from the back seat.
He looked directly into the lens.
May you like
Daniel Montgomery had arrived six hours early.
And he was smiling.
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