CHAPTER 7 — MAYA’S SECRET INSTRUCTIONS
I reached the estate in twenty-two minutes.
Police vehicles surrounded the house.
Scout barked from the front steps, pulling against the housekeeper’s grip.
Maya had left without shoes.
Her coat was still hanging beside the door.
Detective Morales met me in the foyer.
“She wasn’t taken by force.”
“How do you know?”
“The exterior camera shows her leaving through the kitchen garden at 4:12 a.m.”
“Why didn’t anyone stop her?”
“The camera feed had been looped. We only recovered the original file afterward.”
“Gavin?”
“Possibly. But Maya left alone.”
Scout pulled toward the back hallway.
I looked at him.
“Let him go.”
The dog raced through the kitchen and out into the rain.
We followed across the lawn.
He headed toward the old greenhouse at the far end of the property.
Sarah had loved that building. She grew white roses there, even during the final months of her illness.
After her death, I locked it and rarely returned.
The door was open.
Inside, Maya sat beneath the worktable wrapped in one of Sarah’s gardening blankets.
A rusted metal box rested in her lap.
I dropped beside her.
“Maya.”
She threw her arms around me.
“I’m sorry.”
“You never leave without telling me again.”
“Mommy said I had to come alone.”
“Mommy Sarah?”
She nodded and showed me an old music player.
There were dozens of audio files on it. Sarah had recorded bedtime stories before she died.
One file was labeled:
FOR MAYA—WHEN THE HOUSE BECOMES UNSAFE.
Sarah’s voice instructed Maya to find a key taped beneath the dog’s old collar hook, then open a compartment under the greenhouse table.
Maya had remembered the recording only after hearing Sarah’s voice in the dining room.
Inside the metal box were hospital records, photographs, bank transfers and three flash drives.
There was also a letter addressed to Maya.
I did not open it.
“That belongs to you,” I said.
She looked afraid.
“Will it say Eleanor is my mother?”
“Maybe.”
“Do I have to call her Mom?”
“No.”
“Even if she made me?”
“No one gets to force that word from you.”
Maya leaned against me.
Detective Morales examined the documents.
One file contained Sarah’s medical records from the clinical trial. According to the official paperwork, Sarah voluntarily withdrew.
The signature was not hers.
Another file showed payments from Sterling Global’s private foundation to the hospital administrator who removed her from the program.
The authorization code came from my father’s office.
But the final flash drive held something unexpected.
A video appeared.
Sarah sat in her hospital bed, weak but alert.
Mrs. Collins adjusted the camera.
Sarah looked directly into the lens.
“Richard, I need you to understand something before you decide who to blame.”
She paused to breathe.
“Eleanor did not begin as my enemy.”
I stared at the screen.
Sarah explained that Eleanor had contacted her two years after Maya’s birth. She admitted being the donor and surrogate.
She was frightened.
Charles had stopped paying her and threatened to destroy her life if she approached us.
Sarah secretly met with her.
They planned to expose the fertility fraud together.
For nearly a year, Eleanor helped Sarah collect documents.
Then Gavin entered the picture.
“He convinced Eleanor that I intended to keep Maya and send her to prison,” Sarah said. “He turned her fear into hatred.”
The video cut briefly.
When it returned, Sarah’s expression was more urgent.
“If I die, do not assume Eleanor killed me.”
My breath caught.
“Because the person who removed me from treatment was not Eleanor.”
Sarah raised a paper toward the camera.
“The order came from someone who had access to Richard’s private authorization token.”
Only three people had that access.
My father.
My attorney David.
And Thomas Reed, my closest friend and chief financial officer.
May you like
Then Sarah said the name.
“Thomas betrayed us.”
