Chapter 8 - The Sister Who Wasn’t DeadEvelyn had buried Cassandra Vale on a rainy Tuesday.
At least, she had buried a sealed coffin with Cassandra’s name on it.
Five years earlier, Cassandra had been a sharp-tongued investigative journalist with a habit of calling billionaires “well-dressed thieves.” She had warned Evelyn not to marry Julian Sterling. She had warned her twice.
Then Cassandra disappeared while investigating the Sterling Foundation’s overseas relief contracts.
Three days later, police found her burned car near a river.
No body.
But enough blood, they said.
Enough evidence.
Enough pressure to close the case.
Evelyn had been pregnant, grieving, and trapped inside a marriage that was already becoming a cage.
Vivian had attended the funeral wearing black silk and a pearl brooch.
She hugged Evelyn and whispered, “Some women ask too many questions.”
At the time, Evelyn thought grief had twisted the words into something sinister.
Now she knew better.
In the hotel room, Evelyn stared at Cassandra’s name on the custody transfer draft until the letters blurred.
“She’s alive,” Evelyn whispered.
Mara did not answer immediately.
“That document suggests Vivian believed she was alive at the time.”
“At the time?”
“It’s six years old.”
Evelyn looked up.
“Find her.”
“We’re trying.”
“No.” Evelyn’s voice hardened. “You don’t understand. Vivian would not name Cassandra guardian unless she controlled her. My sister would have died before helping Vivian take Lila.”
Mara nodded.
“That’s our concern.”
Lila climbed into Evelyn’s lap.
“Who is Cassandra?”
Evelyn kissed her forehead.
“My sister. Your aunt.”
“I have an aunt?”
Evelyn swallowed pain.
“Yes.”
“Is she bad?”
“No, baby. She was the bravest person I knew.”
Mara’s phone buzzed. She read the message, and her expression changed.
“What?”
“We found something.”
Evelyn stood.
Mara turned the phone toward her.
A security image filled the screen. Grainy. Dark. Taken two months earlier outside a private rehabilitation facility in Vermont.
A woman in a wheelchair sat near a garden wall.
Her hair was shorter.
Her body thinner.
But Evelyn knew that face.
Cassandra.
Alive.
Evelyn gripped the dresser to stay upright.
Vivian had not only stolen money.
She had stolen people.
“Where is she now?” Evelyn asked.
Mara’s jaw tightened.
“She was transferred yesterday.”
Evelyn’s eyes flashed.
“Yesterday?”
“Six hours before the gala.”
Of course.
Vivian knew.
Somehow, Vivian knew Evelyn was close.
Evelyn picked up her phone and called the one person Vivian could not buy.
A man answered on the second ring.
“Evelyn?”
“I need your plane.”
A pause.
Then: “Where?”
“Vermont first. Then wherever they took my sister.”
“Is Lila safe?”
Evelyn looked at her daughter.
“She will be.”
The man’s voice changed.
“I’ll have a security team downstairs in ten minutes.”
Mara watched Evelyn carefully.
“Who was that?”
Evelyn slipped into her heels.
“My father’s oldest enemy.”
Mara frowned.
“You’re calling enemies now?”
May you like
Evelyn smiled without warmth.
“No. I’m calling everyone Vivian thought she defeated.”
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