Chapter 3 - The Adoption That Never Happened

Vincent moved everyone into the small breakfast room.

No guests.

No music.

No red gown under ballroom lights.

Just:

Vincent.

Victoria.

Cassandra.

Edward.

Me.

Cassandra’s mother entered last.

Her name was Evelyn Bell.

Sixty-one.

Elegant.

Controlled.

Until she saw the passenger manifest.

Then she sat down.

Vincent placed it in front of her.

“Lucia Marie Marino.”

Evelyn closed her eyes.

“You found that.”

Victoria stared.

“You knew.”

“Yes.”

“Who was she?”

Vincent answered before Evelyn could.

“Our aunt.”

Victoria looked at him.

He almost laughed.

“We are learning together.”

Vincent turned back to Evelyn.

“Where did my father go?”

“Montreal.”

“Why?”

“To meet a lawyer.”

“What lawyer?”

“Peter Sloan.”

Edward went still.

Vincent noticed.

“You know him.”

Edward nodded.

“He handled Marino family trusts.”

Victoria asked:

“Did he handle my adoption?”

Evelyn said nothing.

Vincent leaned forward.

“Was she legally adopted?”

Silence.

Cassandra whispered:

“Mom.”

Evelyn finally answered.

“No.”

Victoria stopped breathing.

Vincent stared.

“No?”

“We filed temporary guardianship.”

“For how long?”

“Six months.”

Edward said:

“It expired.”

Evelyn nodded.

Vincent looked at Victoria.

“So legally…”

She finished it.

“I was still a Marino.”

Evelyn cried.

“We raised you.”

Victoria looked at her.

“That was not the question.”

Vincent almost smiled.

Same tone.

Same family.

Evelyn continued:

“Your father came back for you.”

Victoria’s eyes filled.

“I know that now.”

“He demanded custody.”

“He already had custody.”

Evelyn looked down.

“Yes.”

Vincent asked:

“What did your husband do?”

Evelyn whispered:

“He used Anthony’s debts.”

“That part we know.”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“You do not know the worst part.”

Edward’s jaw tightened.

Evelyn continued.

“My husband had paid some of those debts.”

Vincent frowned.

“Why?”

“To gain leverage.”

“So he created the problem.”

“Partly.”

Victoria stared.

“He helped trap my father.”

“Yes.”

Cassandra covered her mouth.

Vincent asked:

“And Montreal?”

Evelyn looked at the manifest.

“Anthony went to meet Sloan because Lucia Marie had found a notarized custody statement.”

“From whom?”

“Your mother.”

Vincent froze.

“My mother signed something?”

“Yes.”

“What did it say?”

Evelyn’s voice softened.

“That if she became incapacitated, Victoria was to remain with Anthony.”

Victoria began crying.

Not the Bells.

Her father.

Her biological family.

Vincent asked:

“Where is that document?”

Evelyn looked at Edward.

“I thought Anthony took it.”

Edward shook his head.

“No.”

“Then Sloan?”

“Maybe.”

Vincent asked:

“What happened to the plane?”

Evelyn’s face changed.

“I don’t know.”

“Did it crash?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Lucia came back.”

Silence.

Vincent stared.

“Our aunt came back.”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Two weeks later.”

Edward whispered:

“I never knew.”

Evelyn continued.

“She came to my house.”

“What did she say?”

“That Anthony was alive.”

Vincent stood.

Victoria stared.

“What?”

Evelyn started crying.

“She said the meeting went wrong.”

Vincent’s voice hardened.

“What does that mean?”

“She would not explain.”

“Where was he?”

“Somewhere outside Montreal.”

“Why didn’t she bring him back?”

“She said he could not return yet.”

Vincent laughed bitterly.

“That phrase again.”

Victoria asked:

“What happened to Lucia?”

Evelyn looked at her.

“She disappeared too.”

Edward sat down.

Vincent looked at him.

“You knew my father vanished.”

“Yes.”

“You knew my aunt vanished.”

“Not that she returned.”

“And my mother died a year later.”

Edward nodded.

Vincent asked Evelyn:

“Was my mother’s death natural?”

Cassandra went pale.

“Vincent.”

He did not look at her.

Evelyn said:

“Yes.”

Edward said:

“No.”

Everyone turned.

Evelyn stared at him.

Edward looked at Vincent.

“Your mother was sick.”

“Yes.”

“But not enough to die that night.”

Silence.

Vincent’s face emptied.

“What happened?”

Edward opened the old cardboard box.

Under the photographs was a hospital envelope.

Toxicology.

Lucia Elise Marino.

Sedatives.

High dose.

Vincent stared.

“She was drugged.”

Edward nodded.

Cassandra whispered:

“By whom?”

Edward looked at Evelyn.

She stood.

“No.”

Vincent looked at her.

“You knew.”

“I suspected.”

“Who?”

Evelyn started crying.

“My husband.”

Cassandra whispered:

“Dad?”

Evelyn nodded.

“He wanted Lucia quiet.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened.

“Because she knew Victoria was never adopted.”

“And because she knew Anthony was alive.”

Silence.

Vincent looked at the red shoe.

Then at Victoria.

“Our mother died protecting the fact that you belonged with us.”

Victoria cried.

Edward pulled out one final item.

A hotel key tag.

MONTREAL.

ROOM 417.

Vincent frowned.

“What is this?”

Edward looked at him.

“I found it in Anthony’s old coat.”

“When?”

“Three weeks ago.”

Vincent stared.

“You found his coat three weeks ago?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

Edward swallowed.

“In a storage locker.”

“Whose?”

Edward answered:

“Peter Sloan’s.”

Vincent looked at Victoria.

The lawyer.

The custody statement.

The last known meeting.

Then Edward added:

“Sloan is still alive.”

Vincent’s expression changed.

“Where?”

“Chicago.”

Victoria froze.

“That is where I live.”

Edward nodded.

“And his office is six blocks from your house.”

Vincent looked at his twin.

For six months she had been searching for him.

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