Chapter 4 - THE EMPTY GRAVEPolice locked down the ballroom.
The wedding officially ended without anyone needing to announce it.
Guests were escorted out in groups.
Phones had already recorded everything.
By midnight, the internet knew Caroline Mercer was alive.
By one in the morning, news vans surrounded the hotel.
I sat in a private conference room wrapped in a blanket while detectives questioned my family separately.
For the first time in five years, my name existed outside hospital records.
Caroline Mercer.
Alive.
The word should have felt like freedom.
Instead it felt like the beginning of another nightmare.
Marcus entered carrying two coffees.
He handed me one.
“You should sleep.”
“I slept for five years while everyone else lived my life.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“It feels like it.”
He sat opposite me.
“The grave was opened because the district attorney wanted DNA from the remains.”
“And somebody got there first.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“We don’t know.”
“Recently?”
“Possibly.”
I stared into the coffee.
“Who has the authority to open a Mercer family grave without anyone noticing?”
Marcus did not answer.
I already knew.
Someone with money.
Someone with influence.
Someone terrified of what DNA would prove.
“Victor?”
“In custody.”
“Juliette?”
“Under police supervision.”
“Dad?”
Marcus hesitated.
“What?”
“He’s not under arrest.”
“So he could have done it.”
“Yes.”
The word hurt.
Marcus leaned forward.
“Caroline, suspicion isn’t proof.”
“Neither was my death.”
His eyes softened.
“That’s why I’m still here.”
The door opened.
Grant entered.
He looked nothing like the polished groom from earlier.
His tie was gone.
His shirt was open at the collar.
He carried the emerald necklace.
He placed it on the table.
“Juliette gave this to me.”
I stared at it.
“She said it belongs to you.”
I touched the cold green stones.
Mother had worn them at every Christmas dinner I could remember.
“She knew that five years ago.”
Grant sat down.
“I don’t know who she is anymore.”
“That makes two of us.”
He looked at me.
“She told me you were cruel.”
I almost smiled.
“Did she?”
“She said growing up in your shadow destroyed her.”
That sounded like Juliette.
“She said our father only respected you.”
Grant nodded.
“She said you controlled everything.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because people who control everything don’t usually spend five years trying to prove they exist.”
Fair point.
Grant rubbed his face.
“There’s something else you should know.”
Marcus looked at him.
“What?”
“Three months ago, Juliette received a letter.”
My attention sharpened.
“What letter?”
“I never saw it.”
“How do you know?”
“She burned it in our fireplace.”
Marcus stood.
“What did the envelope say?”
“No return address. But she panicked.”
“What did she do?”
“Called Victor.”
Marcus and I exchanged a look.
Grant continued.
“She told him, ‘I thought she was gone.’”
A chill moved through me.
“Rebecca?”
“Maybe.”
Marcus immediately called the detectives holding Victor.
Minutes later he returned.
“Victor says he never received a call.”
Grant frowned.
“He’s lying.”
“Probably.”
I touched the necklace.
“What happened after the letter?”
“Juliette became obsessed with the wedding.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“She moved the date up.”
“When?”
“Three weeks.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Why rush a wedding?”
Grant’s expression darkened.
“There was a prenuptial agreement.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course there was.”
“No.”
Grant shook his head.
“Not protecting me.”
He took out his phone.
“My family owns Hale Biotech.”
I knew the company.
Medical diagnostics.
Genetic testing.
Grant continued.
“As my spouse, Juliette would gain access to certain family trusts and board privileges.”
Marcus immediately understood.
“Genetic databases.”
Grant nodded.
“We operate one of the largest private ancestry and medical-genetic databases in the country.”
My heart began pounding.
“Juliette wasn’t marrying you for money.”
Grant looked sick.
“I don’t think so.”
“She wanted access.”
“To DNA records.”
Marcus grabbed his coat.
“If Rebecca survived the fire…”
I stared at him.
“You think the body wasn’t Rebecca.”
“We don’t know.”
Grant looked between us.
“Then who was in the coffin?”
Marcus stopped.
“That’s the problem.”
His phone rang again.
He answered.
Then his face changed.
“What address?”
He listened.
“We’re coming.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
Marcus looked directly at me.
“They found Victor’s private storage unit.”
My pulse quickened.
“What’s inside?”
“Files.”
“What kind?”
“Medical records.”
May you like
He paused.
“And photographs of a woman who looks exactly like your mother.”
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