Your wife said it was just to make sure the money reached my daughters if I wasn’t here. She deposited money into an account every month to help with their expenses. Thomas pulled a chair and sat, his legs trembling.
An account. Monthly deposits. For five years.
He controlled all the family finances. How had Helena hidden this from him? Where had this money come from? How much? The question came out harsh. Laura hesitated.
A thousand per month. For food, school, clothes. She said that when I got better, I could return it if I wanted.
But I never managed. The cancer came back last year. Now the doctors say it’s weeks, maybe days.
Thomas did the math quickly. Sixty thousand in the last five years. It wasn’t a fortune for someone with his wealth, but it was enough money to leave traces.
Why had he never seen those traces? The obvious answer hit him like a punch, because someone had deliberately hidden them. Who handled this account? He asked. Who delivered the money to you? Laura coughed, her whole body shaking.
Rose started crying softly in the corner. Lily hugged her, whispering words Thomas couldn’t hear. When the coughing subsided, Laura was gasping.
A man from the foundation, she finally said. Vincent Clark. He came every month, brought the money, asked if we needed anything.
He was very kind. After your wife died, he kept coming. Said it was what she would have wanted.
Vincent Clark. Thomas knew that name very well. Vincent was the financial director of the Helena Whitmore Foundation, promoted to that position shortly after her death.
A man Thomas had trusted to honor his wife’s legacy. A man who, apparently, knew secrets that the husband himself didn’t. Is he here? Thomas stood up abruptly.
Has Vincent visited you recently? Laura nodded weakly. Yesterday. He said he would take care of everything.
That I didn’t need to worry about my girls. She tried to raise her hand toward Thomas. Please, Mr. Whitmore.
I know this is a lot to ask. I know you don’t owe me anything. But your daughters are innocent.
They didn’t ask for any of this. Thomas looked at the two girls in the corner. Lily had her face buried in Rose’s shoulder now, her shoulders trembling.
Rose just stared at the floor, her eyes empty. They were children. Just frightened children about to lose everything.
I’m going to find out what’s going on, Thomas said, more to himself than to Laura. And I’ll make sure your daughters are safe. It wasn’t a promise he planned to make, but seeing the relief on the face of that dying woman, he knew he couldn’t go back.
Thomas left the girls in the room with their mother and stepped out into the corridor. He needed air, space to think. But above all, he needed answers.
He took out his cell phone and dialed his personal lawyer. Daniel, I need you to investigate something for me. Discreetly.
While he explained the situation, Thomas paced back and forth in the empty corridor. Daniel Moss had been his lawyer for 15 years, a meticulous man who left no stone unturned. If there were documents involving Helena and Laura Davies, he would find them.
I want to know about any financial transactions linked to that name. Any papers signed by my wife. And Daniel, don’t mention this to anyone at the foundation.
Especially Vincent Clark. After hanging up, Thomas stood looking out the corridor window. The rain had lessened to a fine drizzle.
Down below, people went in and out of the hospital, each carrying their own burden of pain and hope. He had always thought he knew Helena completely. Every thought, every dream, every secret.
Now he discovered she had built an entire parallel life that he had been unaware of. He returned to the room. Laura had fallen asleep, her breathing irregular and labored.
Lily and Rose remained in the chairs, embraced. Thomas approached them. Have you eaten today? The girls shook their heads.
Let’s get something from the cafeteria. Your mother needs to rest. In the hospital cafeteria, Thomas ordered sandwiches and juice for the girls.
They ate slowly, as if they weren’t used to eating until they were full. As he watched, something inside him cracked. They were only children.
How did Vincent Clark fit into all of this? Why had he continued helping after Helena’s death? Mr. Vincent is nice, Lily said suddenly, as if reading his thoughts. He always brought sweets when he visited. He said he was Mrs. Whitmore’s friend…
