Chapter 8 - The Woman Amelia Feared.
Nathan listened to Amelia's recording three times before he could accept that he had heard the name correctly.
Camille Vale.
His wife.
The woman he had met at a charity dinner two years after Amelia's death.
The woman who had claimed they had never met before that night.
The recording continued.
Amelia's voice sounded tired, but there was no confusion in it.
"Camille worked for the foundation before Isabella was born."
Nathan lowered himself into the desk chair.
Isabella sat beside him, wrapped in her blanket, listening silently.
"I fired her after I discovered she had copied private donor files and personal family records."
Nathan looked toward the office doorway as if Camille might appear there.
"She became obsessed with proving that I had ruined her life."
The recording crackled.
"I didn't tell you because I thought she was gone."
Amelia coughed softly.
"But someone sent photographs of Isabella to my hospital room last week, and the handwriting looked like hers."
Nathan stopped the recording.
His hands were cold.
Isabella whispered, "Mom knew her?"
"Apparently."
Nathan felt humiliation burn beneath his fear.
Camille had not entered his life by accident.
She had studied it first.
He called Amelia's former attorney, Margaret Chen, and asked whether she remembered Camille Vale.
Margaret became silent.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"At home."
"Is Isabella with you?"
"Yes."
"Keep her with you."
Nathan stood.
"Margaret, what did Amelia leave in the blue envelope?"
The attorney exhaled slowly.
"A statement and copies of financial records."
"About Camille?"
"About several people, including Camille."
Nathan's heart began pounding.
"Why wasn't I told?"
"Amelia instructed me not to interfere unless the envelope was opened or stolen."
Nathan looked at the empty lockbox.
"It was stolen."
Margaret swore under her breath.
Then she told Nathan something worse.
Amelia had discovered irregular withdrawals from a family trust created for Isabella.
The transactions had stopped after Camille left the foundation.
No criminal charge had been filed because Amelia had lacked enough proof to identify who authorized them.
"How much money?" Nathan asked.
"At the time, about eighty thousand dollars."
Nathan stared at the wall.
"Why would Camille come back years later for that?"
Margaret hesitated.
"Because the trust is worth significantly more now."
Nathan knew that.
After Amelia's death, investment gains and insurance proceeds had increased Isabella's protected inheritance to nearly eighteen million dollars.
The trust could not be controlled by Nathan's spouse.
It could, however, be managed by a court-approved guardian if Nathan became unavailable and Isabella was deemed unable to remain with him.
Nathan thought of the altered authorization.
The therapist who had never met Isabella.
The rehearsed statements about being afraid of her father.
The residential school paperwork.
Camille had not simply been trying to send Isabella away.
She had been building a record.
A record that could eventually make Nathan look unstable and Isabella look disturbed.
Then someone else could ask a court for control.
"Who is the backup trustee?" Nathan asked.
Margaret was quiet for too long.
"Your cousin, Grant Mercer."
Nathan felt another door open beneath his feet.
Grant was not merely family.
He was Nathan's chief financial officer.
He had introduced Nathan to Camille at the charity dinner where they supposedly met for the first time.
Nathan looked at Isabella.
She was staring at the recorder.
"Dad, I saw Mr. Grant in her office."
Nathan's pulse stopped.
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"What were they doing?"
Isabella swallowed.
"He gave her papers."
Nathan asked the question he already feared.
"Did you hear what they said?"
May you like
Isabella nodded.
"She said they only needed you to believe I was the problem for one more week."
