Chapter 5 - The Daughter Eleanor Buried
“No.”
Amara shook her head.
Ruiz said nothing.
“No.”
He turned the tablet toward her.
The folder contained a birth certificate.
Female child.
Mother:
ELEANOR VALE.
Father:
VINCENT VALE.
Child’s name:
AMARA ELIZABETH VALE.
Amara stared at it until the words stopped looking real.
“My parents were David and Nina Cole.”
Ruiz scrolled.
“Adoption record.”
Amara looked.
Private placement.
Closed file.
Transferred six weeks after birth.
Her hands began shaking.
“This is fake.”
“Could be.”
“Say it is.”
“I can’t.”
Amara pushed the tablet away.
“I grew up three states away.”
Ruiz remained quiet.
“Why would Eleanor give me away?”
A voice came from the doorway.
“Because she thought you were dead.”
Amara froze.
An elderly man stood there.
Tall.
Silver hair.
Walking cane.
Two private security officers behind him.
Ruiz immediately reached for his weapon.
“Who are you?”
The man looked only at Amara.
“Vincent Vale.”
Amara forgot the pain.
Forgot the hospital.
Forgot how to breathe.
Vincent stepped inside.
“You called me.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been alive for twenty years?”
“Yes.”
“And you let your son think you were dead?”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
Amara’s anger rose.
“You let everyone think Eleanor murdered you.”
“She tried.”
“Not well enough, apparently.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Then his eyes filled.
He looked at her the way someone looks at a photograph they thought they had lost.
“Amara.”
“Don’t.”
“I searched for you.”
“Don’t call me like you know me.”
“You’re right.”
He lowered his head.
“I don’t.”
Ruiz stepped between them.
“Mr. Vale, you need to explain why your files say she’s your daughter.”
Vincent looked at Amara.
“Because she is.”
Silence.
Amara’s eyes burned.
“Why was I adopted?”
Vincent’s answer came slowly.
“Eleanor gave birth to twins.”
Amara stared.
“Twins?”
“You and Julian.”
The room tilted.
“No.”
Vincent nodded.
“She was told you died during delivery.”
“By who?”
“Victor Crane.”
Amara’s throat tightened.
“The man who sent the sniper?”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“But why steal a baby?”
Vincent looked toward the closed hospital door.
“Because the Vale trust was written before either of you were born.”
Ruiz frowned.
“What does that matter?”
Vincent answered:
“The firstborn inherited controlling ownership.”
Amara understood before he finished.
She looked at him.
“I was born first.”
“Yes.”
“So Julian never owned the family fortune.”
“No.”
Vincent’s voice dropped.
“You did.”
Amara stared at him.
Then her phone buzzed.
A photograph appeared.
Eleanor tied to a chair.
Julian beside her.
Both alive.
Text underneath:
BRING AMARA VALE TO GENEVA.
A second message arrived.
OR YOUR FAMILY DIES TOGETHER THIS TIME.
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
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