Chapter 4 - THE CHILD’S DRAWING
The Plaza ballroom felt like a tomb. The air conditioning hummed, a low, buzzing sound that barely covered the harsh, ragged breathing of the bride still slumped in her chair.
Uncle Richard walked down the center aisle, the rubber tip of his silver-handled cane clicking rhythmically against the marble floor.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
He was impeccably dressed, his silver hair perfectly coiffed, a silk pocket square folded neatly in his breast pocket. He looked like the picture of old-money elegance.
But his eyes were dead. Cold, calculating, and fixed entirely on me.
“I must say, Olivia,” Richard purred, stopping ten feet away. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. You have your mother’s stubborn chin.”
I pulled Mia entirely behind my legs, shielding her from his gaze. “How do you have my drawing?” I demanded, my voice shaking but loud.
Richard casually lifted the piece of paper. It was wrinkled and faded, bordered with cheap, colorful crayon wax. It was a picture of a house, a little girl, and a man holding a balloon.
“You gave this to me,” Richard said smoothly. “Don't you remember? You were six. The same age your lovely daughter is now. I came to visit your mother.”
I searched my memories. The tiny apartment. The smell of cheap soup. The rare moments a man in a nice suit would bring us a box of groceries. My mother always told me it was a charity worker.
“You were the man who brought the groceries,” I whispered.
Richard smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. “I was protecting my brother’s interests. Edward was… sentimental. He couldn't let go of Elizabeth, even after my dear sister-in-law, Eleanor, forced her onto that train to Chicago.”
Alexander stepped in front of me, blocking Richard’s view.
“My mother forced Elizabeth away?” Alexander asked, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re lying. My mother was the kindest woman in the world.”
“Oh, Alexander,” Richard chuckled, leaning on his cane. “Eleanor was a viper dressed in cashmere. She found out Elizabeth was pregnant. She bought the train ticket and threatened to destroy Elizabeth’s life if she didn't disappear. But Elizabeth was smart. She got off the train in Queens and hid.”
Margaret stepped forward, her hands shaking as she pointed at her brother.
“And you knew this whole time, Richard?” Margaret demanded. “You knew Edward had a child living in poverty, and you kept it a secret?”
“I kept the family name clean, Margaret!” Richard snapped, his polite veneer cracking for a fraction of a second. “Edward was a fool! If he had brought a bastard child into the estate, the board of directors would have lost their minds. The stock would have plummeted!”
“You did it for money,” Alexander spat.
“I did it for the legacy!” Richard countered. He turned his attention to Vanessa, who was cowering in her chair. “Though I must say, dealing with this gutter trash was the lowest point of my career.”
Vanessa let out a whimper.
Richard sneered at her. “I paid you ten thousand dollars to clean out Elizabeth’s apartment when she had her little… heart attack. I told you to bring me the bracelet and the wooden box. And what did you do? You kept the bracelet and used the money to buy a new face and seduce my nephew!”
Vanessa sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I just wanted to be safe! You don't know what it’s like to be hungry!”
“You greedy little rat,” Richard hissed. “You thought you could outsmart me? You thought I wouldn't recognize the little girl from Queens when you suddenly showed up on Alexander’s arm?”
Alexander looked at his bride with utter disgust. “You knew who she was all along. You knew everything.”
“I had to protect my investment,” Richard said smoothly. “I let the wedding proceed because Vanessa was easy to control. I knew her secret. She was my puppet.”
I couldn't stand it anymore. My mother’s death. The secrets. The lies.
“Why did you come to our apartment the night my mother died?” I yelled, stepping out from behind Alexander. “She was healthy! She was fine! What did you do to her?”
Richard’s eyes darkened. “I didn't touch her, Olivia. I simply told her the truth.”
“What truth?” I demanded.
Richard reached inside his tailored jacket.
My heart stopped. I thought he was pulling a gun.
Instead, he pulled out a heavy, dark blue winter coat. It was rolled tightly into a ball.
He tossed it onto the floor between us.
It was a man’s cashmere overcoat. The collar was stained with something dark and rusted.
Dried blood.
Margaret let out a piercing scream. She stumbled backward, clutching her chest. “No! Oh, God, no!”
Alexander stared at the coat, his entire body rigid. “That’s my father’s coat. The one he was wearing the night of the car crash.”
Richard smiled. It was the smile of a predator who had finally cornered his prey.
“Edward didn't die in a simple car crash, Alexander,” Richard said softly. “The brakes didn't fail. They were cut. By someone who was in the car with him.”
The room spun. I felt dizzy.
“But he was driving alone,” Alexander whispered, shaking his head. “The police report said he was alone.”
“He wasn't alone,” Richard said, his eyes gleaming with malicious joy. “He had a passenger. Someone who survived the crash, pulled themselves out of the wreckage, and left my brother to bleed to death in the snow.”
Richard pointed his silver cane directly at Vanessa.
“Isn't that right, Valerie?” Richard asked. “Care to tell your husband who was in the passenger seat?”
Vanessa let out a guttural, animalistic scream and curled into a ball on the floor, hiding her face.
“Tell him!” Richard roared.
May you like
Vanessa slowly lifted her head. Her face was smeared with black makeup, her eyes wide with absolute terror. She looked at Alexander, her lips trembling.
“It was my father,” Vanessa whispered. “My father was his driver.”
