Chapter 5 - The Child Who Didn’t Exist
Daniel arrived at the law office within an hour.
Attorney Rebecca Sloan placed a file between them.
“Lucas Carter,” she said.
Born six weeks before Noah.
Listed father: Michael Carter.
Daniel’s older brother.
Daniel stared at her.
“My brother doesn’t have a son.”
Michael had died in a boating accident three years earlier.
He had never married.
Rebecca turned the page.
The documents claimed Michael had privately acknowledged paternity before his death.
Based on that acknowledgment, Lucas had become William Carter’s first biological grandchild.
The trust transfer had already occurred.
Daniel felt sick.
“How much?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Approximately forty-two million dollars in assets at the time of transfer.”
Daniel stared at her.
“And who controls the trust while this supposed child is a minor?”
Rebecca didn’t answer immediately.
She didn’t have to.
Daniel already knew.
“Margaret.”
Rebecca nodded.
Daniel leaned back.
Everything suddenly changed.
Margaret’s hatred of Noah.
The fake tests.
Claire’s fear.
The missing medical records.
This wasn't about shame.
It was about money.
“Have you ever seen Lucas?”
“No.”
“Has anyone?”
Rebecca opened another document.
“All communications concerning the minor have come through a guardian representative.”
“Who appointed the representative?”
“Your mother.”
Daniel laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
Then Rebecca said something worse.
“Daniel, two months before Claire died, she came here.”
His breath caught.
“She knew about Lucas?”
“She suspected the acknowledgment was fraudulent.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“She asked me not to until she had proof.”
Rebecca opened her desk drawer.
“She left this.”
It was a flash drive.
Daniel reached for it.
Rebecca stopped him.
“Before you watch anything, understand something. Claire believed somebody inside the family office was altering records.”
“Margaret?”
“She never named her.”
Daniel picked up the drive.
“What’s on this?”
Rebecca met his eyes.
“A recording Claire made the week before she died.”
Daniel couldn't speak.
May you like
For eighteen months, he had been grieving a woman whose final battle he had known nothing about.
And now her voice was waiting inside a tiny piece of plastic.
