Chapter 4 - THE SECRET IN THE BLUE ENVELOPE
Élodie had always believed the worst thing Laurent could do was take her son away.
Now she was beginning to understand that he had been taking pieces of her life for years.
Her marriage.
Her trust.
Her brother.
And perhaps even the truth about Mathéo's childhood.
Thomas placed the blue envelope on Claire's desk.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Élodie stared at her brother's handwriting across the front.
For Ellie. Only when the boy is no longer safe.
Gabriel had always called her Ellie.
Laurent hated the nickname.
He said it sounded childish.
After Gabriel's death, Élodie had stopped using it.
Seeing those five letters again felt like hearing her brother call from another room.
She opened the envelope.
Inside were three photographs, a handwritten letter, and a small brass token stamped with the number 47189.
The same digits Mathéo had found on the silver key.
Élodie's hands began trembling.
She unfolded the letter.
Ellie,
If you're reading this, Laurent has done exactly what I feared.
First, you must understand that I never abandoned you because I stopped loving you.
I disappeared because I discovered something that could destroy our entire family.
Laurent wasn't simply stealing money.
He was using people.
He collected secrets, financial records, medical information, and private documents. Then he used those secrets to force people to cooperate.
I found evidence that several people who challenged him suffered suspicious accidents, sudden financial ruin, or devastating legal accusations.
I tried to go to the police.
Someone warned Laurent before I could speak.
The crash was arranged to silence me.
Élodie stopped reading.
Her chest hurt.
Thomas looked away.
Claire remained motionless.
Élodie forced herself to continue.
I survived because Thomas reached me before Laurent's people did. He helped arrange my disappearance. It was not a choice I made lightly, and I know you may never forgive me.
But there is something you must know about Mathéo.
Élodie's eyes blurred.
When Mathéo was born, Laurent insisted on handling every legal document. I discovered later that he had created a trust naming Mathéo as the eventual beneficiary of certain assets.
Those assets were not Laurent's to give.
They came from accounts tied to the Saint-Clair Foundation.
I believe Laurent intended to use Mathéo's name to hide the ownership of stolen funds.
I secretly arranged for an independent administrator to preserve the records and prevent Laurent from taking control without your involvement.
The key and token are part of the identification system used to retrieve my evidence package.
Do not surrender them to Laurent.
And Ellie, there is one more thing.
The woman you know as Isabelle Moreau was working with Laurent before you ever met her.
Élodie lowered the letter.
Isabelle.
Her best friend.
The woman who had been beside her when Mathéo was born.
The woman who had brought meals after Gabriel's funeral.
The woman who had held her hand during the divorce.
All those years.
All those conversations.
All those secrets.
Élodie suddenly remembered something.
During the custody dispute, Isabelle had repeatedly asked whether Élodie still possessed Gabriel's childhood books.
At the time, she had thought it was a strange attempt to make conversation.
Now she understood.
Isabelle had been searching.
Claire studied the photographs.
One showed Laurent entering a private office with an unfamiliar man.
Another showed a storage facility.
The third showed Gabriel standing beside a woman in a dark green coat.
Élodie frowned.
“Who's she?”
Thomas leaned forward.
His face changed.
“That's Dr. Camille Renard.”
“Who is she?”
“A former financial compliance investigator who helped Gabriel trace the foundation's accounts.”
“Where is she now?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Missing.”
Élodie closed her eyes.
“How many people have disappeared because of Laurent?”
“We don't know.”
Claire placed the letter carefully on the desk.
“We need to turn this over to investigators.”
Thomas nodded.
“I've already contacted someone I trust in financial crime enforcement. But Laurent has influence. We need to make sure the evidence reaches more than one person.”
Élodie looked at him.
“Then we make copies.”
“Exactly.”
They spent the next hour organizing the files.
Claire documented where each item came from.
Thomas identified the people and companies he recognized.
Élodie gave a detailed account of Mathéo's recording and the threats made before the custody hearing.
For the first time since the judge's decision, she felt something other than helplessness.
She felt purpose.
But purpose did not erase fear.
Her son was still on a plane.
Still beside Laurent.
Still carrying a key his father desperately wanted.
At 4:17 p.m., Élodie's phone rang.
The screen displayed Mathéo's number.
She answered immediately.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hi, Mom.”
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you with Dad?”
A pause.
“He's getting our bags.”
Élodie closed her eyes.
“Mathéo, listen to me. I love you more than anything.”
“I know.”
“Nothing that happened in court changes that.”
“I know, Mom.”
She heard a faint sound.
Perhaps footsteps.
Mathéo lowered his voice.
“Did you listen?”
“Yes.”
“Did you understand?”
“Enough.”
“Mom, I found something else.”
Élodie's heart accelerated.
“What?”
“In Dad's suitcase.”
“Mathéo, don't search his things. It's too dangerous.”
“I already did.”
She pressed her hand against her forehead.
“What did you find?”
“A picture.”
“Of what?”
“Uncle Gabriel.”
Élodie froze.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. He looks older. He's standing outside a building here in Montreal.”
“Mathéo—”
“And Mom?”
“Yes?”
“The picture was taken yesterday.”
Élodie looked at Thomas.
He was already watching her.
“Sweetheart, where are you right now?”
“At the airport.”
“Stay where people can see you.”
“Mom, there's something else.”
His voice became barely audible.
“Dad's coming. I have to go.”
“Wait—”
“Mom, the man in the picture isn't alone.”
Élodie gripped the phone.
“Who's with him?”
Mathéo whispered:
May you like
“Me.”
The call ended.
