Chapter 20 - The Call From Prison
Margaret Vance called me at 6:13 the next morning.
I had blocked every prison number I knew.
Apparently, she found another way.
“Emily.”
Hearing her voice after more than a year made my injured leg ache instantly.
“Why are you calling me?”
“I hear you've been asking questions.”
My blood chilled.
“How?”
Margaret laughed.
“You always were naïve.”
“Richard Sterling?”
Silence.
That was enough.
“You're afraid of him.”
“I'm afraid of very few people.”
“But he's one.”
Her breathing changed.
I pressed harder.
“Where is Claire's original evidence?”
“Burned.”
“Wrong.”
Another silence.
I smiled despite myself.
“You don't know where it is.”
“Emily.”
“That's why you're calling.”
Her voice hardened.
“You have built a beautiful little life. Your parents are safe. You can walk again. You have your foundation.”
A pause.
“Know when you've won.”
I looked through the window at Victoria standing outside Claire's house.
“No.”
“What?”
“You taught me something, Margaret.”
“What exactly did I teach you?”
“That people who tell you to stop digging are usually standing over something buried.”
She hung up.
Thirty seconds later, Victoria's phone rang.
Frank.
She answered.
Her expression changed immediately.
“What?”
I stood.
“What happened?”
She put him on speaker.
Frank sounded furious.
“Someone broke into the foundation last night.”
My chest tightened.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“What did they take?”
“Nothing.”
Victoria frowned.
“Then why break in?”
Frank went silent.
“Because they weren't stealing.”
“What were they doing?”
“They left something.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
May you like
Frank inhaled.
“Emily's parents.”
