Chapter 3 - The Daughter I Thought Was Gone Forever
I ran.
For the first time in years, I forgot about my age.
Forgot about my expensive gown.
Forgot about the guests who were still waiting in the garden.
I ran through the hallway toward the north entrance.
Angela followed me.
"Mrs. Montgomery, please be careful!"
I barely heard her.
Twenty-four years.
Twenty-four years of unanswered questions.
Birthdays without candles.
Christmas mornings without her laughter.
Every Mother's Day feeling like punishment.
Now my daughter was somewhere beyond that door.
Alive.
I reached the service entrance just as Daniel stepped inside.
Behind him stood a thin woman wearing a faded gray jacket.
Her dark curls were pulled into a loose bun.
A small cut marked her forehead.
Her hands were trembling.
But I recognized her immediately.
The eyes.
The mouth.
The tiny scar near her left eyebrow.
"Naomi?"
She looked up.
For one terrible second, she seemed frightened of me.
Then her face crumpled.
"Mom?"
I crossed the distance between us.
She fell into my arms.
I held her so tightly that I was afraid she couldn't breathe.
"My baby."
I could barely speak.
"My beautiful baby."
Naomi began sobbing.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"No. No apologies."
She buried her face against my shoulder.
"I wanted to come home."
My heart shattered.
"I know."
"I tried, Mom."
"I know, sweetheart."
For several minutes, neither of us moved.
Then she pulled back suddenly.
"The girls?"
I touched her cheek.
"They're inside. They're safe."
Her knees weakened.
Daniel caught her arm.
I helped her into the sitting room.
The moment Lily saw her, she screamed.
"Mommy!"
Both girls ran toward her.
Naomi knelt despite the pain in her leg.
She wrapped her arms around them.
Maya began crying.
"You came back."
Naomi kissed her forehead.
"I promised."
I watched them.
My daughter.
My granddaughters.
A family I had never known existed.
And all of them looked terrified.
Angela brought water.
Daniel called for medical assistance.
Naomi insisted she was fine.
But I could see bruising near her wrist.
Her jacket was torn.
I sat beside her.
"Naomi, what happened?"
She looked toward the girls.
I understood.
"Angela, would you take Maya and Lily to the breakfast room? Perhaps find them something sweet."
Maya immediately shook her head.
"No."
Naomi touched her cheek.
"It's okay, baby."
Maya hesitated.
"Are we safe?"
Naomi looked at me.
For a moment, she seemed unable to answer.
I took Maya's hand.
"I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."
She studied my face.
Then nodded.
Angela led them away.
Once the door closed, Naomi began shaking.
I took her hands.
"Tell me."
She stared at the floor.
"Richard found us."
I felt my chest tighten.
"Richard Bell?"
She nodded.
"He appeared outside my apartment three weeks ago."
I swallowed.
"What did he want?"
"He said I had made a mistake keeping the necklace."
I looked down at the silver crescent resting against my chest.
"Why?"
Naomi's eyes filled.
"Because the necklace is proof."
I frowned.
"Proof of what?"
She took a shaky breath.
"Of what happened before Dad died."
My entire body went cold.
Thomas.
My husband.
The love of my life.
He died twenty-six years earlier in what authorities described as an accidental fall during a business trip.
Naomi had been fifteen.
I remembered receiving the terrible phone call.
I remembered collapsing in our kitchen.
I remembered Richard standing beside me at the funeral.
Helping with paperwork.
Promising to protect our family.
I looked at Naomi.
"Your father's death?"
She nodded.
"Mom, I heard Richard arguing with Dad the week before the accident."
I stared at her.
"About what?"
"Money."
She swallowed.
"Dad discovered missing funds from one of the company accounts."
My heart pounded.
I remembered those months.
Thomas had been worried.
He mentioned financial irregularities.
But after his death, Richard assured me everything had been resolved.
I had been grieving.
I trusted him.
Naomi continued.
"Dad told Richard he would report what he found."
I felt sick.
"Did you tell anyone?"
She nodded.
"After Dad died, I told Richard I had heard the argument."
I stopped breathing.
Naomi looked down.
"He asked exactly what I remembered."
Her voice broke.
"Then he told me never to repeat it."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"He said people could get hurt."
I felt cold.
Naomi wiped her cheeks.
"Two years later, I found a copy of Dad's old notebook."
My heart pounded.
"Where?"
"In the attic."
She continued.
"He had written down numbers, dates, and names."
I leaned forward.
"What names?"
"Richard's."
My stomach twisted.
"And several others."
Naomi looked toward the door.
"I didn't understand everything. But I knew Dad had been investigating something."
I took a breath.
"What did you do?"
"I confronted Richard."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
My brave daughter.
Always determined to demand answers.
Naomi began crying.
"He told me the notebook was meaningless. Then he asked where I'd found it."
I gripped her hand.
"What happened next?"
"He took it."
My heart sank.
"But I had already copied some pages."
I looked at her.
"Where are they?"
She hesitated.
Then reached toward her necklace.
The silver crescent she wore was slightly thicker than mine.
She pressed a tiny catch.
The pendant opened.
Inside was a narrow folded strip of paper.
My mouth fell open.
Naomi handed it to me.
"Mom, Dad designed these necklaces with hidden compartments."
I remembered.
Thomas had loved creating little surprises.
He was an architect with a fascination for puzzles.
He told me the crescents represented the people who would always find their way back to one another.
I stared at the paper.
It contained numbers.
Dates.
And the name of a company I recognized.
Bellwood Financial Services.
Richard's private firm.
Naomi swallowed.
"Richard thought he'd destroyed everything."
I looked up.
"But you kept this."
She nodded.
"And he knows."
I felt my chest tighten.
"Is that why he threatened you?"
"Yes."
I studied the paper.
Then I looked at my daughter.
"Why didn't you come to me?"
Her face crumpled.
"Because he showed me a letter."
I swallowed.
"What letter?"
"One with your signature."
I stared at her.
"He said you knew about Dad's financial problems. He said you'd agreed to send me away so I couldn't damage the family."
Tears filled my eyes.
"Naomi, I never signed anything like that."
She began sobbing.
"I know now."
I pulled her into my arms.
For years, she'd believed I rejected her.
For years, I'd believed she abandoned me.
And one man had apparently built our separation on lies.
Daniel entered quietly.
"Mrs. Montgomery, the medical team is here."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I opened the message.
It contained a photograph of my granddaughters taken earlier that afternoon.
They were standing near the champagne fountain.
Beneath the picture were four words.
"Some secrets should remain buried."
My hands began shaking.
May you like
Richard had been close enough to photograph them.
And he wanted us to know it.
