Chapter 8
Vale's theft changed everything.
The original amendment didn't give him power anymore.
Another clause overrode it.
My grandfather had anticipated trustee misconduct.
If criminal fraud was proven, all administrative authority immediately transferred to the protected beneficiary.
Me.
Vale had spent years hiding theft that, once exposed, destroyed his control.
The irony would have been satisfying if he weren't armed and desperate.
Police expanded the manhunt.
His photograph appeared on the news.
The story went public.
At first I hated that.
Then other victims started calling.
A retired teacher recognized Vale's company.
A widow said he'd managed her husband's estate.
A businessman reported suspicious transfers.
More evidence poured in.
Vale's empire began collapsing from every direction.
He had spent years convincing victims they were alone.
Now we weren't.
The district attorney told me the public attention made it harder for him to hide.
Still, I barely left the secure house.
My pregnancy advanced.
Thirty weeks.
Thirty-one.
Thirty-two.
Every week felt like a victory.
We chose our daughter's name one night while sitting on the porch beneath police-monitored security lights.
“Amelia,” Marcus said.
I smiled.
“My grandfather loved that name.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“You remembered?”
“He mentioned it at our wedding.”
Grandpa had told Marcus that if we ever had a daughter, Amelia was the prettiest name he'd ever heard.
My eyes filled.
“Amelia Grace.”
Marcus placed his hand against my belly.
“Hi, Amelia Grace.”
She kicked him.
He laughed.
“She approves.”
For the first time in weeks, I laughed too.
Then Detective Brooks called.
Vale had contacted Rachel.
Not directly.
He sent a message through a fake social media account.
You owe me.
Rachel immediately gave police the phone.
That mattered.
Months earlier, she might have hidden it.
Now she didn't.
The message continued.
Your sister is destroying everyone. You can still fix it.
Rachel replied under police supervision.
How?
Vale answered.
Get Claire alone.
Marcus almost broke the kitchen chair when he heard.
“I'll kill him.”
“No,” I said.
He looked at me.
I surprised myself again.
“No more people ruining their lives because of him.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
Police used Rachel to keep Vale talking.
He wanted her to persuade me to meet without Marcus.
He claimed he only wanted the stolen amendment exchanged for money.
Nobody believed him.
Rachel asked where.
Vale refused to say.
He instructed her to prove she had access to me first.
She needed a photograph.
Police created one.
It showed me holding today's newspaper in a room that wasn't our safe house.
Vale accepted it.
Then stopped responding.
Hours passed.
A day.
Two.
We began to think he'd realized it was a trap.
Then everything happened at once.
At 4:30 one morning, I woke with pain.
Sharp.
Low.
I sat up.
“Marcus.”
He woke instantly.
“What?”
Another pain tightened through my abdomen.
I grabbed his arm.
“Something's happening.”
We were only thirty-three weeks.
Too early.
Police escort rushed us to the hospital.
Dr. Patel met us there.
Contractions.
Not poisoning.
Not trauma.
Real preterm labor.
Panic flooded me.
“No, no, no.”
Dr. Patel held my hand.
“Claire, listen. Thirty-three-week babies often do very well.”
“She needs more time.”
“We're going to try to give her more.”
They gave medication to slow contractions.
Steroids to help Amelia's lungs.
Marcus stayed beside me.
For twelve hours, the contractions eased.
I finally breathed again.
Then Detective Brooks entered.
Her face told me something had happened.
“What?”
“Vale surfaced.”
“Where?”
“At the hospital?”
“No.”
Thank God.
“He broke into Naomi Pierce's office.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“He stole audit records.”
“Did he hurt anyone?”
“Naomi wasn't there.”
I exhaled.
“What did he take?”
“Copies showing offshore account locations.”
Marcus frowned.
“Those accounts are frozen.”
“Yes.”
Brooks paused.
“But one record included the name of a cooperating foreign bank officer.”
“What does that mean?”
“He may be trying to intimidate witnesses.”
My fear changed shape.
Vale wasn't only after me anymore.
He was trying to dismantle the case.
Police contacted the bank officer and placed him under protection.
Vale had fewer moves left.
That made him more dangerous.
By evening my contractions stopped.
I would remain hospitalized.
No argument from me.
The next morning Rachel sent another letter.
This one was only three sentences.
I helped create the danger you're living in.
If I can help end it, I will.
I don't expect you to ever call me sister again, but I am going to start acting like one anyway.
I read it twice.
Then folded it.
Something inside me softened.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But a door I had assumed was permanently closed opened one inch.
Three days later, Rachel helped police set another trap.
Vale told her to meet him at a bus depot.
She wore a wire.
I watched from the hospital with Marcus and Brooks.
Rachel looked terrified.
But she went.
Vale appeared near the back entrance.
This time police had every exit covered.
Rachel approached him.
“You said you could fix this.”
“I can.”
“Claire won't meet me.”
Vale's face hardened.
“Then you're useless.”
Rachel swallowed.
“My parents are in jail because of you.”
“No. They're in jail because they're stupid.”
I saw Rachel flinch.
“She almost lost the baby.”
Vale shrugged.
“Then Susan failed.”
My stomach turned.
Rachel's face changed.
“What was supposed to happen?”
Vale leaned closer.
“Why do you care now?”
“Because she's my sister.”
“Interesting timing.”
Rachel's eyes filled.
“Did you mean to kill her?”
Vale smiled.
That's when I realized he was enjoying this.
“I meant to solve a problem.”
Marcus's hand tightened around mine.
Police moved closer.
Rachel asked, “With the drug?”
Vale's smile vanished.
He looked around.
Something had alerted him.
Maybe an officer moved too soon.
Maybe he saw the wire.
He grabbed Rachel.
My scream tore out of me.
A gun appeared in his hand.
He pressed it against her side.
Police surrounded them.
Rachel was crying.
Vale dragged her toward a parked car.
“Back up!”
Officers shouted commands.
Vale screamed back.
Then Rachel did something I never expected.
She slammed her heel onto his foot, twisted away, and dropped to the ground.
Police fired.
Vale fell.
For one horrible second, nobody moved.
Then officers swarmed him.
Marcus stood.
“Is he dead?”
Brooks listened to the radio.
“No.”
I started crying.
Not because I cared whether Vale lived.
Because Rachel was standing.
Officers pulled her to safety.
She was alive.
Vale had been shot in the shoulder.
He was alive too.
And this time, he wasn't escaping.
I stared at Rachel on the monitor.
The sister who had kicked me.
The sister who had nearly caused me to lose Amelia.
The sister who had just risked her own life to help end the nightmare.
I didn't know what our future looked like.
But for the first time, we had one.
Thomas Vale was in custody.
May you like
The manhunt was over.
And beneath my hands, Amelia kicked hard enough to remind me she was still here too.
