Chapter 1 - What Lauren Really Wanted
Twenty minutes after my sister walked out into the snow, my father told me the slap wasn't the real reason she'd come to Christmas dinner.
“She wanted something from you,” he whispered.
I stared at him across my parents’ kitchen.
Behind the closed door, I could hear Christmas music still playing in the dining room.
It sounded obscene now.
Emma had finally stopped crying.
James was holding her against his chest in the living room, walking slowly beneath the colored lights of the Christmas tree.
My baby's left cheek was still pink.
Every time I pictured Lauren's hand touching her, rage rose in my throat.
“What does Lauren want?”
Dad looked older than he had an hour earlier.
“Your signature.”
I almost laughed.
“My signature on what?”
He didn't answer immediately.
That frightened me more than anything.
“Dad?”
“Your grandmother's trust.”
I stared at him.
“What trust?”
His eyes closed.
And suddenly I knew.
Not what the secret was.
But that there was one.
A big one.
“You told me Grandma Evelyn's estate was settled years ago.”
“That wasn't entirely true.”
“Entirely?”
My voice rose.
The kitchen door opened.
James entered carrying Emma.
He took one look at my face.
“What happened?”
Dad's shoulders dropped.
“I was telling Claire about Evelyn.”
James stopped.
He knew that name.
My grandmother Evelyn Bennett had died three years earlier.
She had been wealthy, although nobody in our family ever spoke openly about how wealthy.
Her father had founded Bennett Medical Supply after World War II, and Evelyn inherited property, investments, and a controlling interest in several commercial buildings.
When she died, my mother told Lauren and me that most of the estate had gone to charity.
I had believed her.
James moved beside me.
“What about Evelyn?” he asked.
Dad looked at Emma.
Then he whispered, “She left something for Claire's first child.”
I couldn't breathe for a second.
“What?”
“A trust.”
“How much?”
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“I don't know the exact current value.”
“Dad.”
“Approximately eleven million dollars.”
The room disappeared around me.
I actually grabbed the kitchen counter.
“Eleven million?”
“It includes investment accounts and the lake property.”
Grandma's lake property.
A beautiful stretch of land outside Traverse City where Lauren and I had spent summers as children.
Mom had told us it had been sold.
Apparently that had been another lie.
James remained strangely calm.
“What are the terms?”
Dad looked at him.
“The trust transfers to Claire's first biological or legally adopted child once the child reaches twenty-five. Until then, Claire is trustee.”
I stared at my father.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because Lauren found out first.”
A chill moved through me.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“And you knew?”
Dad nodded.
“Your mother knew too.”
I stepped away from him.
The betrayal hurt almost as much as what Lauren had done.
“You've known for three months?”
“We were trying to handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“Lauren.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You mean protect Lauren.”
Dad said nothing.
That was answer enough.
James shifted Emma gently against his shoulder.
“What did Lauren want Claire to sign?”
Dad swallowed.
“A disclaimer.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Documents that would allow the trust arrangement to be challenged and potentially redistributed among Evelyn's surviving descendants.”
“Meaning Lauren.”
“Yes.”
“And Emma.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
Suddenly every strange interaction I'd had with Lauren over the past few months returned.
The questions about whether we'd made a will.
The jokes about Emma being “the golden grandchild.”
The sudden interest in whether James had life insurance.
The argument at Thanksgiving when Lauren demanded to know why Grandma had always liked me better.
I had dismissed all of it.
Now it looked different.
James did too.
“Where are the documents?” he asked.
Dad's face changed.
“I don't know.”
James watched him.
“You do.”
Dad looked toward the hallway.
Then he opened a cabinet above the refrigerator.
Behind a stack of old cookbooks sat a large brown envelope.
He placed it on the counter.
My name was printed across the front.
CLAIRE WALKER.
I opened it.
Inside were legal documents.
There were yellow tabs marking places for signatures.
I read the first page.
Then the second.
By the third, my hands were shaking.
“Lauren brought these?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And Mom hid them?”
Dad nodded.
I looked toward the dining room.
My mother was sitting twenty feet away pretending none of this existed.
“Why?”
“Because Lauren owes people money.”
“How much?”
Dad hesitated.
“Almost six hundred thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
My sister was a marketing director.
She made good money.
“How?”
“Investments. Loans. Credit cards. I don't know all of it.”
James spoke quietly.
“Who does she owe?”
Dad looked at him.
“That is the part that scares me.”
Before he could continue, something struck the kitchen window.
We all turned.
Another impact.
A rock.
James immediately handed Emma to me.
“Stay here.”
He moved toward the back door.
I grabbed his sleeve.
“James.”
He looked at me.
That calm expression was back.
“I’m checking the yard. Lock this behind me.”
Dad suddenly said, “Wait.”
James turned.
My father looked terrified.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
Dad lowered his voice.
“Lauren wasn't supposed to hit Emma.”
The sentence made my blood cold.
“What does that mean?”
“She was supposed to convince Claire that Emma needed to be removed from the trust.”
I stared at him.
“How?”
Dad looked directly at me.
“By proving Claire and James were unfit parents.”
Silence.
Then James asked the question I couldn't.
“Who told her to do that?”
Dad's mouth opened.
Before he could answer, my mother's voice came from behind us.
“I did.”
We turned.
Mom stood in the doorway.
She wasn't crying.
She wasn't ashamed.
She looked exhausted.
But there was something else in her face.
Defiance.
“Margaret,” Dad whispered.
Mom ignored him.
She looked at me.
“You were never supposed to find out like this.”
I clutched Emma tighter.
“You helped Lauren?”
“I was trying to save this family.”
“From what?”
She stared at my daughter.
Then said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
“From the reason your grandmother left everything to Emma in the first place.”
James stepped between us.
“What reason?”
Mom's eyes moved to him.
Then to me.
“Because Evelyn knew something about Lauren.”
My heart hammered.
“What?”
Mom shook her head.
“You won't understand.”
“Try me.”
For the first time, her composure cracked.
“Lauren isn't your sister.”
The kitchen became completely silent.
I stared at her.
“What did you say?”
Dad sank into a chair.
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
“She isn't your sister, Claire.”
She took one trembling breath.
“She is my daughter.”
I almost shouted.
“That makes her my sister!”
Mom shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
Then she said the words that turned Christmas night into the beginning of a nightmare.
“Because I'm not your mother.”
