Chapter 4: The Woman in the Photograph
I stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
The woman standing outside the seaside house had silver hair, tired eyes, and a newspaper folded beneath one arm. She wore a dark blue coat and stood beside a rusted mailbox.
But it was her face that made my chest hurt.
My mother's face.
The same narrow chin. The same small scar above her left eyebrow. The same crooked smile I'd seen in the photograph Grandma Eleanor kept beside her bed.
"Where did this come from?"" I asked.
Vivienne looked at the phone.
"I don't know.""
"Someone knows where she is.""
"Maya, listen to me. If Sarah is alive, there's a reason she's stayed hidden all these years.""
"Maybe she was waiting for me.""
Vivienne reached for my wrist.
"Or perhaps someone wants you to believe that.""
I pulled away.
"Why would anyone send me a fake photograph?""
"To lure you somewhere.""
I looked at the message again.
Your mother is alive. Find her tonight.
There was no address. No name. No explanation.
Only the photograph.
Chef Bennett approached with the competition paperwork.
"Maya, the judges have made their decision official. You're through to the final round.""
I barely heard him.
He glanced at my phone.
"What's happened?""
I showed him the picture.
His expression changed.
"Sarah?""
"You knew my mother?""
"Only briefly. She used to visit the hotel when Eleanor worked there.""
"Do you know where she went?""
He shook his head.
"No. But I know someone who might.""
Vivienne turned sharply.
"Don't.""
Bennett looked at her.
"Vivienne, we can't keep pretending this never happened.""
"That man destroyed Eleanor's life.""
"Then perhaps it's time someone made him answer for it.""
He took a business card from his pocket and wrote a number on the back.
"Daniel Reeves. He was a private investigator who worked with the hotel twenty-seven years ago. He helped Sarah gather the financial records.""
I accepted the card.
"Is he still working?""
"He retired. But he lives outside the city.""
Vivienne looked increasingly uncomfortable.
"Daniel disappeared after Sarah did.""
"Then why give me his number?""
"Because he may be the only person who knows what really happened.""
I slipped the card into my handbag.
Then I looked at the eleven cakes still sitting on the judging table.
The little blue vanilla cake was almost untouched.
My grandmother had made it for me every birthday.
I'd spent years believing it was simply a family tradition.
Now I wondered how many secrets she'd hidden in those recipes.
At 6:40 that evening, I stood outside the apartment building where Brielle lived.
I hadn't planned to confront her.
But when I checked the competition's security footage with Chef Bennett, I noticed something strange.
Brielle hadn't entered the kitchen alone.
Someone had been waiting in the corridor.
A man wearing a dark suit.
His face appeared for only three seconds, but Bennett recognized him immediately.
Charles Ashford.
Brielle's father.
I pressed the buzzer.
Nothing.
I tried again.
A voice finally answered.
"What?""
"It's Maya. I need to speak to Brielle.""
A pause.
Then the door clicked open.
Brielle was waiting in the lobby, wearing a silk blouse and holding a glass of white wine.
"You have some nerve coming here.""
"I have a question.""
"Then ask it.""
"Why did your father enter the competition kitchen this morning?""
Her fingers tightened around the glass.
"He didn't.""
"I saw the footage.""
"Then you should ask the organizers what they intend to do about their security system.""
"Brielle, I know you switched off the refrigerator.""
She laughed.
"You have no proof.""
"I have your handwriting on the note.""
"Handwriting isn't proof.""
"Your bracelet was visible in the footage.""
She took a sip of wine.
"Perhaps you should worry less about my bracelet and more about your little cakes.""
I stepped closer.
"Why did your father steal my grandmother's recipes?""
Her smile disappeared.
"Because your grandmother was a liar.""
"That's what he told you?""
"My father built everything he has. Eleanor was a bitter old woman who couldn't accept that someone else became successful.""
I stared at her.
"Then why does he still have her recipe book?""
Brielle looked away.
For the first time, she seemed uncertain.
"Because she gave it to him.""
"That's not true.""
"How would you know?""
"Because I spent my childhood watching her search for it.""
Brielle lowered her glass.
"Maybe she was searching for something else.""
"What?""
She leaned toward me.
"Ask your mother.""
The words struck harder than I expected.
I grabbed her wrist.
"Where is she?""
Brielle pulled free.
"I don't know.""
"You're lying.""
"You're becoming obsessed with a woman who abandoned you.""
I froze.
Brielle watched my face and smiled.
"That's what happened, isn't it? Your grandmother told you your mother died, but she actually ran away.""
"Shut up.""
"Maybe she didn't want you.""
I turned toward the elevator.
Then Brielle spoke again.
"One more thing, Maya.""
I stopped.
"My father knows you're looking.""
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
"How?""
She lifted her phone.
"Because he asked me to send him your address.""
At 8:15, I arrived home.
My apartment was dark.
I switched on the hallway light and immediately noticed the front door.
It wasn't locked.
I was certain I'd locked it that morning.
I pushed it open.
The living room looked untouched. My grandmother's old photographs remained on the bookshelf. The small wooden cabinet beside the window was closed.
But something was missing.
The framed photograph of Grandma Eleanor and me on my tenth birthday.
I walked toward the bookshelf.
A drawer stood slightly open.
Inside was the envelope containing my grandmother's old letters.
Someone had searched through them.
I reached for my phone.
Then I heard a noise from the kitchen.
A cupboard door closing.
"Hello?""
Silence.
I grabbed a heavy ceramic vase from the hallway table.
"Who's there?""
A man stepped into the doorway.
He was tall, wearing a charcoal suit, with silver hair and an expensive watch.
Charles Ashford.
He looked around my apartment as if he owned it.
"Hello, Maya.""
I raised the vase.
"Get out.""
He glanced at it.
"Put that down. We need to talk.""
"You broke into my home.""
"I used a key.""
"That doesn't make it yours.""
He smiled faintly.
"Your grandmother used to say exactly the same thing.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What do you want?""
Charles took a photograph from his jacket.
It showed my mother standing outside the seaside house.
"Your mother is alive," he said.
I gripped the vase.
"Where is she?""
"That's complicated.""
"Tell me.""
He placed the photograph on the table.
"Before you go looking for Sarah, you should know something about the woman you call your grandmother.""
I stared at him.
"What about her?""
Charles leaned closer.
"Eleanor didn't protect you from me, Maya.""
May you like
He paused.
"She protected me from you.""
