Chapter 5: The House by the Lake
I had spent three years believing the lake house was the happiest place in our family.
Claire loved the water. Sophia loved feeding the ducks. Every summer, we would spend a week there, swimming during the day and sitting around the fireplace at night.
Richard had even helped me purchase it.
Now I understood why Claire had stopped wanting to visit.
At noon, James arrived with a laptop and a small security team.
“We're not going anywhere near that property without a plan,” he said.
I placed Richard's message on the table.
“He knows where the other girl is.””
“Or he wants you to believe that.””
“He wouldn't send that message if he had nothing to hide.””
James rubbed his forehead.
“Daniel, listen. If Richard is involved in a crime, confronting him alone could destroy our chances of proving anything.””
“I don't care about proving anything right now. I want my daughter.””
Hannah stood near the kitchen doorway.
“I know where Claire hid something.””
We both turned toward her.
“What?”” I asked.
“The box. The one she asked me to move.””
“Where did you put it?””
“In the lake house.””
I grabbed my jacket.
James stepped in front of me.
“Then we're going together.””
We arrived shortly after three.
The lake house stood at the end of a private road, surrounded by pine trees. The water was still, reflecting the pale afternoon sky.
Nothing appeared different.
The wooden porch was freshly painted. The flower beds were maintained. The windows were clean.
But as soon as I stepped inside, I noticed something.
The photograph of Claire that usually stood on the fireplace mantel was gone.
I turned toward Hannah.
“Where was the box?””
“Upstairs. In the old guest bedroom.””
We climbed the staircase.
The room smelled of dust and cedar. A white wardrobe stood against one wall, and the curtains were still the ones Claire had chosen.
Hannah walked to the wardrobe.
“Behind this.””
James helped move it.
There was a narrow wooden panel behind the wardrobe, barely visible against the wall.
Hannah pressed a small metal latch.
The panel opened.
Inside was a black metal box.
I recognized the handwriting on the lid.
Claire.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
There were photographs, hospital bracelets, handwritten letters, and a small pink blanket.
At the bottom lay a birth certificate.
*Baby Girl Moretti.*
Mother: Claire Moretti.
Father: Daniel Moretti.
The date of birth was two months before the accident.
I sat down.
For the first time in three years, I cried for something other than my wife.
I cried because I had missed my daughter's first days.
Her first cry.
Her first smile.
Her first night in the world.
James examined the documents.
“There's something else.””
He held up a folded letter.
It was addressed to me.
I opened it.
My love,
If you found this box, then Hannah kept her promise.
Our second daughter is named Lily.
I wanted to tell you when I was sure she was safe. Richard discovered the pregnancy and began threatening me. He said the baby belonged to someone else, someone who had paid him to arrange everything.
I don't know who that person is.
I only know that Richard has been taking money from an account connected to our company.
If anything happens to me, look at the blue ledger.
It's the only proof.
I love you. Please find our girls.
I read the letter twice.
Then I noticed a small photograph tucked inside.
A newborn baby.
Lily.
She had Claire's nose and a tiny dark patch of hair.
On the back was another message.
*She is with someone who thinks she is her mother.*
Hannah took the photograph from me.
Her lips parted.
“That's impossible.””
“What?””
She turned it around.
There was a hospital identification number.
She recognized it.
“I know this number.””
“From where?””
“From the restricted rehabilitation unit. The same place where Sophia was transferred.””
James looked at her.
“Are you saying Lily was there too?””
Hannah nodded.
“I saw a baby with this identification number. Richard visited her every month.””
I stood.
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
James examined the papers again.
“What's the blue ledger?””
I searched the box.
There was no ledger.
Only a small brass key and a handwritten address.
It was for a storage facility in the city.
I took the key.
“We're going there.””
Before James could respond, a car door slammed outside.
We froze.
Footsteps approached the porch.
Then came three sharp knocks.
I moved toward the window.
A black SUV stood outside.
Two men were getting out.
I recognized one of them.
Richard's personal security chief, Victor.
James whispered, “We need to leave.””
But Hannah was staring at the open box.
“Daniel, wait.””
“What?””
She picked up one of the hospital bracelets.
The name printed on it wasn't Lily.
It read:
*Sophia Moretti — Infant B.*
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
Hannah shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Then the front door opened.
Victor walked inside without knocking again.
“Mr. Moretti,” he called.
“Mr. Hale would like to speak with you.””
I moved the box behind me.
“Tell him I'm not interested.””
Victor looked toward the stairs.
His eyes landed on the photographs.
Then he smiled.
“I'm afraid you don't understand, sir.””
He pulled a folded document from his jacket.
“Mr. Hale owns this property.””
I stared at him.
“He does not.””
Victor unfolded the paper.
It was a deed transfer.
My name appeared at the top.
My signature was at the bottom.
And the date was three years old.
The day after Claire died.
I looked at James.
He shook his head.
“That's forged.””
Victor smiled again.
“Perhaps. But until a court decides otherwise, you'll need to leave.””
Then he looked directly at Hannah.
“Miss Reed, you've caused enough trouble.””
Hannah backed away.
Victor reached for her arm.
I grabbed his wrist.
“Touch her again, and you'll regret it.””
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Victor's phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes, sir.””
He listened.
His face changed.
Then he looked at me.
“Mr. Hale says you should check your daughter's school records.””
My stomach tightened.
“What school records?””
Victor slipped his phone into his pocket.
“Apparently, Sophia has a sister.””
He paused.
“And she's been attending the same school for the last two years.””
We left the lake house with the box and the documents.
James drove.
I sat in the passenger seat, staring at the school name written on the back of the photograph.
Westbrook Academy.
Sophia's school.
I had attended every parent meeting, every performance, every awards ceremony.
How could another daughter have been there without my knowing?
I called the headmistress.
“Mrs. Carter, this is Daniel Moretti. I need to speak with you about a student.””
“Of course, Mr. Moretti.””
“Lily. A girl named Lily.””
The woman stopped speaking.
“Mr. Moretti,” she said carefully, “I'm not sure I should discuss that over the phone.””
“Is she there?””
A pause.
Then:
“She was.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What do you mean, was?””
“She was collected from school this morning.””
“By whom?””
The headmistress hesitated.
Then she gave me a name.
May you like
“Mrs. Eleanor Hale.””
Richard's wife.
