Chapter 3
When I woke up, the first thing I did was reach for my stomach.
It was flat.
Empty.
For one terrible second, I forgot where I was.
Then I screamed.
A nurse appeared beside me.
"Clara, you're okay."
"My baby."
"Your baby is alive."
I stopped.
The words took several seconds to reach me.
Alive.
"My baby?"
"Alive. A little boy."
Everything inside me broke open.
I cried so hard my incision burned.
"A boy?"
The nurse smiled.
"Four pounds, nine ounces. He needed help breathing, so he's in the NICU, but he's fighting."
I covered my face.
My son.
After everything, I had a son.
"Can I see him?"
"As soon as your doctor clears you to move."
"Now."
"Clara—"
"Please."
She squeezed my hand.
"I'll ask."
A figure shifted near the window.
Rachel stood from the chair.
She looked exhausted.
Her mascara had disappeared. Her hair was tied up badly, and she was still wearing the pale green dress from the shower.
"Hey."
I reached for her.
She crossed the room and hugged me carefully.
"The baby?"
"Beautiful."
"You saw him?"
"Through the glass."
"Does he look okay?"
"He looks furious."
I laughed through my tears.
"That's my boy."
Rachel smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
I remembered.
The account.
Eight million dollars.
My happiness turned to ice.
"Dana."
Rachel closed her eyes.
"Clara—"
"Tell me."
She sat.
"The account is under your name."
"I never opened it."
"I know."
"Where?"
"Cayman Islands."
I stared at her.
Rachel continued.
"There are transfers from three Vance subsidiaries. The authorization documents have your electronic signature."
"My signature?"
"And copies of your passport."
I felt sick.
"Julian."
"Probably."
"No. Definitely."
I thought back to all the times he had asked me to sign insurance forms.
Tax documents.
Company invitations.
House paperwork.
All the passwords he knew because husbands and wives were supposed to trust each other.
"They're framing me."
"Dana thinks so."
"Thinks?"
"She has to investigate it."
I pushed myself higher against the pillows.
Pain tore across my abdomen.
I didn't care.
"I gave them everything. Why would I give investigators evidence if I was stealing money?"
"That's exactly what Dana said."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is someone moved money into that account three days ago."
I stopped breathing.
Three days ago.
After federal investigators were already quietly checking my information.
After Arthur had begun watching me differently.
After Julian had suddenly become almost cheerful about divorce.
They knew.
Maybe not about the raid.
But they knew I was dangerous.
"How much?"
"Eight million two hundred thousand."
My mind raced.
"From where?"
"An employee retirement fund."
I shut my eyes.
That was worse than company money.
Hundreds of ordinary people.
Secretaries.
Drivers.
Warehouse workers.
People who had spent decades believing their future was protected.
"Those monsters."
Rachel leaned forward.
"There's more."
I looked at her.
"Of course there is."
"Arthur was arrested."
A weak smile touched my mouth.
"For what?"
"Obstruction. An agent says he tried to destroy a drive during the search."
That sounded exactly like Arthur.
"Beatrice?"
"Not arrested."
"Julian?"
Rachel hesitated.
That hesitation frightened me.
"What?"
"He disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?"
"Agents questioned him at the house. They didn't have enough to arrest him at that moment. He asked to go to the bathroom."
"And?"
"He climbed out a first-floor window."
I stared at her.
"You're joking."
"I wish."
"Where is he?"
"Nobody knows."
My hand moved to my incision.
My husband had assaulted me.
Nearly killed our child.
Helped frame me for financial crimes.
And now he was running.
"Chloe?"
"Still talking."
"Pregnant?"
Rachel made a strange face.
"What?"
"Apparently she refused medical confirmation."
I remembered the way Chloe had rubbed her perfectly flat stomach.
"What does that mean?"
"It means she told agents her pregnancy was private medical information."
"She announced it to fifty people."
"I pointed that out."
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Then the door opened.
Dana Pierce entered.
She wasn't wearing the FBI jacket anymore.
Dark slacks.
White blouse.
Tired eyes.
"How are you?"
"I've had better baby showers."
She pulled a chair close to the bed.
"I'm sorry about what happened."
"Did you find Julian?"
"No."
"Then I'm not interested in apologies."
Rachel touched my arm.
Dana didn't react defensively.
"Fair."
"Am I a suspect?"
She was silent for half a second too long.
"Clara, the financial account requires investigation."
"I asked if I'm a suspect."
"At this moment, you're both a cooperating witness and a person whose identity appears connected to suspicious transfers."
My throat tightened.
"That's a yes."
"It's not an accusation."
"It can still destroy my life."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
My voice cracked.
"My son was born early because my husband hit me. I wake up from surgery and learn my name is attached to stolen retirement money. The man who did this is missing. So tell me, Agent Pierce, exactly how much danger am I in?"
Dana looked toward the door, then back at me.
"A lot."
Rachel stiffened.
Dana lowered her voice.
"Arthur's private ledger confirms multiple schemes you described. That's good for your credibility."
"But?"
"But your name appears more often than we expected."
My skin prickled.
"Where?"
"Consulting approvals. Wire authorizations. Two acquisition files."
"I didn't approve acquisitions."
"I know what you've told me."
"I didn't."
"I believe we may be looking at forged documentation."
"May?"
"I need evidence."
I laughed bitterly.
"My bruises aren't enough evidence of what my husband is capable of?"
"For the assault, they're evidence. For federal fraud, I need documents, metadata, witnesses."
I turned my head toward the window.
For months, Dana had told me to remain calm.
Stay observant.
Do not confront Arthur.
Do not tell Julian.
Collect only information I could legally access.
I had done all of it.
And the Vances had still found a way to drag me into the grave with them.
"There's something else," Dana said.
I looked back.
"What?"
"Arthur is blaming you for everything."
I almost admired the predictability.
"He claims you handled internal compliance and secretly created the shell entities."
"I wasn't the compliance officer."
"We know."
"He knows."
"He also says you seduced Julian to gain access to the family."
Rachel actually stood.
"Oh, I am going to prison today."
I grabbed her hand.
"Sit down."
Dana almost smiled.
"Please do."
Rachel sat.
I looked at Dana.
"Arthur can say whatever he wants."
"Yes."
"Then why are you worried?"
"Because he isn't the only one saying it."
The room went silent.
"Who?"
Dana's expression hardened.
"Beatrice."
I stared at her.
Of course.
"She gave a statement saying you became obsessed with the company finances last year."
"I became suspicious."
"She says you frequently asked about passwords."
"Arthur left spreadsheets open at dinner."
"She claims you pressured Julian to give you access."
"I never did."
Dana nodded.
"Chloe says the same thing."
My head snapped up.
"Chloe?"
"She says you once told her you were going to take the Vance family for everything they had."
"I barely knew her."
"When did you first meet her?"
I thought.
"At a company Christmas party."
"Did you speak privately?"
"For maybe thirty seconds in the restroom. She complimented my earrings."
Dana wrote something down.
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Did you threaten the Vances?"
"No."
I hesitated.
Then remembered the baby shower.
"You'll regret this."
But that happened after the raid started.
Not months ago.
Dana closed her notebook.
"I need to ask something difficult."
"Go ahead."
"Who besides you knew you were cooperating with us?"
"No one."
"Think carefully."
"I did."
"Rachel?"
I looked at my cousin.
Rachel shook her head.
"I knew Clara suspected crimes. I didn't know she had contacted federal investigators until this morning."
Dana looked at me again.
"Doctor? Therapist? Friend?"
"No."
"Did you keep notes?"
"Only mentally."
"Any messages?"
"No."
"Then someone became suspicious independently."
Julian.
I remembered him entering our bedroom one night three weeks earlier.
I had closed my laptop too quickly.
He had smiled.
Asked what I was doing.
I said shopping for baby clothes.
He had kissed my forehead.
Then he had stood there.
Watching me.
"Three weeks ago."
Dana leaned forward.
"What happened?"
I told her.
When I finished, she nodded.
"Anything after?"
"He became nicer."
Rachel frowned.
"Nicer?"
"Yes."
And suddenly I understood how frightening that was.
Julian had spent months treating me like an inconvenience.
Then three weeks ago he started bringing home dinner.
Asking about prenatal appointments.
Offering to handle paperwork.
He even asked me to update our emergency contact documents.
Documents containing my Social Security number.
Passport copy.
Electronic signature.
"Oh my God."
Dana saw it too.
"What?"
"He asked me to sign a stack of estate documents."
"When?"
"Two weeks ago."
"Did you?"
"Some."
"What were they?"
"I don't know. He said they were updates because of the baby."
Dana stood immediately.
"Where are your copies?"
"I don't have any."
"Who prepared them?"
"Vance Holdings legal department."
Dana reached for her phone.
Then stopped.
"Clara, was there a notary?"
I thought back.
A man in a gray suit had come to the house.
He barely spoke.
"Yes."
"Name?"
"I don't remember."
"Would you recognize him?"
"Probably."
Dana pulled up something on her phone and turned it toward me.
There were six headshots.
I pointed at the fourth.
"Him."
Dana stared.
"What?"
"That's not a notary."
My pulse jumped.
"Who is he?"
"Former Vance Holdings security."
Rachel swore under her breath.
Dana walked toward the door.
"Stay here."
"Where are you going?"
"To find out what you actually signed."
She left.
I stared after her.
Rachel sat beside me.
"Clara, this is insane."
"No."
I looked at the empty doorway.
"It's organized."
That was worse.
The Vances hadn't panicked this morning.
They had been preparing for weeks.
My phone rang again.
Rachel checked it.
Unknown number.
We looked at each other.
"Don't answer," she said.
It rang again.
And again.
On the fourth call, I reached out.
"Give it to me."
"Clara—"
"Give it."
She handed me the phone.
I answered without speaking.
For three seconds, there was only breathing.
Then Julian's voice came through.
"How's my son?"
Every muscle in my body tightened.
"You don't get to call him that."
"He is my son."
"You nearly killed him."
"You forced my hand."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
No regret.
No apology.
Just blame.
"Where are you?"
He laughed softly.
"You really think I'm going to tell you?"
"Federal agents are looking for you."
"I'm not worried about them."
"You should be."
"I'm worried about you."
A chill moved through me.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You took something from my father."
"I gave investigators evidence."
"No."
His voice dropped.
"I'm talking about something else."
I looked at Rachel.
She was trying to hear.
"What?"
"The red drive."
My mind stopped.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me, Clara."
"I don't have a red drive."
"You opened Dad's private safe three months ago."
I had.
But there had been no red drive.
Only the black ledger, bank records, and one envelope full of photographs I hadn't understood.
"I never saw it."
"Then somebody else has it."
"Good."
His breathing changed.
"You need to listen carefully."
"No, Julian. You need to surrender."
"If that drive reaches the FBI, none of this matters anymore."
"What is on it?"
Silence.
Then he said five words that made my blood freeze.
"Proof your father is alive."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Rachel whispered, "Clara?"
I couldn't answer.
My father had died when I was seventeen.
At least, that was what my mother had told me.
A boating accident.
No body recovered.
Arthur Vance had known my father.
In fact, Arthur had been the last person who claimed to have seen him alive.
I looked toward the NICU hallway beyond my room.
May you like
Then back at the dead phone in my hand.
For the first time, I wondered whether marrying Julian had ever been an accident.
