Chapter 10
Sabrina did not go home with me.
Neither did Victoria.
The police advised distance.
Marisol demanded it.
My heart needed it.
I returned to the San Diego house alone at 3:40 a.m.
The workshop light was still on.
The torn fabric lay across the table where I had left it.
I touched the sleeve.
Then I folded the ruined suit carefully and placed it in a box.
Not trash.
Not anymore.
Proof.
Upstairs, Victoria’s closet was half empty.
She had packed before the wedding.
That struck me harder than the plan itself.
She had not packed in panic.
She had packed with confidence.
She had expected to come home, sleep, smile through Sunday, mortgage me on Monday, and vanish by Tuesday.
In Sabrina’s old room, most drawers were empty too.
On the desk sat a photograph of us from her tenth birthday.
My face had not been folded away in this one.
She was on my shoulders, laughing.
Victoria stood beside us, smiling.
I wondered when the smile became a mask.
Or if it always had been.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then answered.
A woman’s voice said, “Mr. Carter, my name is Elise Monroe. I used to work for Raymond Cole.”
I sat on Sabrina’s bed.
“What do you want?”
“To tell you your daughter is not safe with him.”
My blood chilled.
“What does that mean?”
“Raymond doesn’t love Sabrina. He needs her.”
“For money?”
“For access.”
“To what?”
“To you.”
I stood.
“Explain.”
She took a shaky breath.
“Raymond has been bragging for years that Victoria married the wrong man on purpose. He said you owned something worth more than the house, more than the pavilion.”
“My trust?”
“No,” she whispered. “Your daughter’s adoption file.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“I never adopted Sabrina legally.”
May you like
The silence lasted too long.
Then Elise said, “Yes, you did.”
