“Your child is Ethan’s heir,” Sterling said gently. “And legally, so are you.”
I looked out the window.
“Evelyn called him my trap.”
“Evelyn has always believed affection is a strategy.”
The bitterness in his voice surprised me.
“You knew her well?”
“I knew the family well. Ethan’s father, Richard, was my first major client. He was a difficult man, but not a careless one. Before he died, he began questioning Evelyn’s influence over family finances.”
“And my father?”
Sterling hesitated.
“Your father, Daniel Whitmore, was brought in as an outside forensic accountant for a discreet review.”
The name struck me like a bell.
Daniel Whitmore.
I hadn’t heard anyone say my father’s full name in years.
“He worked for Ethan’s father?”
“Briefly.”
“My mother never told me.”
“She may not have known the details.”
“What happened?”
Sterling’s gaze dropped.
“Your father died before completing his report.”
The air in the car seemed to thin.
“He had a heart attack.”
“That is what the death certificate says.”
I turned toward him slowly.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything without evidence.”
“That’s a lawyer answer.”
“It’s the only responsible answer I have.”
I wanted to be angry at him. It would have been easier than being afraid.
Instead, I rested my hand on my stomach and tried to steady my breathing.
The baby kicked again, firmer this time.
Sterling noticed.
“Are you all right?”
“No,” I said. “But I’m not going to fall apart yet.”
A faint sadness crossed his face.
“You sound like Ethan.”
That undid me more than anything else.
Tears blurred my vision, silent and relentless. I turned toward the window so Sterling wouldn’t see, though of course he did. He had the decency to say nothing.
We did not go back to the Malibu estate.
Instead, the driver took us to a quiet residential street in Brentwood lined with sycamore trees and old homes hidden behind hedges. The sedan stopped before a cream-colored house with a green door and climbing roses along the porch.
A woman opened the door before we reached it.
She was in her late sixties, tall and elegant, with warm brown skin, close-cropped silver hair, and intelligent eyes that took in everything at once.
“Mara?” I asked.
She smiled sadly.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Ethan had mentioned Mara only a handful of times. She had been his childhood nanny, though he always said the word nanny didn’t do her justice. She had raised him more honestly than either of his parents had.
When she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, I broke.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
I simply leaned into this woman who smelled of lavender and tea and allowed myself, for the first time since the officers knocked at my door, to be held by someone who loved Ethan without wanting anything from him.
“I’m so sorry,” Mara whispered.
“He knew,” I said against her shoulder. “He knew something was wrong and he didn’t tell me.”
“He was trying to keep the storm from reaching you.”
“It reached me anyway.”
Mara’s arms tightened.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Storms often do.”
Inside, her home was warm and quiet. There were books everywhere, framed watercolors on the walls, and a piano by the window with sheet music stacked neatly beside it. On the mantel sat a photograph of a young Ethan, perhaps ten years old, grinning with one front tooth missing.
I crossed the room toward it.
His hair stuck up wildly. His arms were wrapped around a golden retriever. Behind him stood Mara, one hand on his shoulder.
“He was happy there,” she said.
“With you?”
“When he allowed himself to be.”
I touched the edge of the frame.
“I don’t know how to do this without him.”
“No one does at first.”
Sterling set his briefcase on the dining table.
“We should review the immediate protections.”
Mara shot him a look.
“She just buried her husband.”
“Not yet,” I said, wiping my face. “The burial hasn’t happened.”
Sterling’s expression softened.
“Sarah…”
“No. I want to know what happens next.”
He nodded.
“Ethan’s instructions were clear. You are to remain somewhere secure until we determine who fabricated the DNA report and whether the circumstances of his accident are being properly investigated.”
