Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO CHOSE CLARA BEFORE SHE DIED
I barely slept.
Nathaniel didn’t sleep at all.
At six in the morning, I found him in the kitchen wearing the same shirt from the night before, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a cup of untouched coffee beside him.
Three laptops were open.
Security footage covered one screen.
Bank records covered another.
The third displayed an employment file.
Mine.
He looked up when I entered.
“Where’s Sophia?”
“Asleep.”
“Eli?”
“With Mrs. Campbell.”
Mrs. Campbell was the overnight nanny.
One of the few people Nathaniel still trusted.
I crossed my arms.
“Tell me.”
“Sit.”
“I hate when you say that.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I sat anyway.
Nathaniel turned the laptop toward me.
My employment application appeared.
Name.
Address.
References.
Work history.
Nothing unusual.
Then he scrolled.
A note had been added internally.
PRIORITY PLACEMENT. REQUESTED BY E.R.
My stomach dropped.
“E.R.”
“Evelyn Reed.”
“She was dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then someone used her initials.”
“Possibly.”
“Who?”
He clicked another file.
“The request originated two years and four months ago.”
I frowned.
“That’s before she died.”
“And before you applied.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Evelyn created a standing instruction with Hawthorne.”
Nathaniel’s voice stayed controlled.
“She gave them your name.”
My skin prickled.
“She didn’t know me.”
“Apparently she did.”
“No.”
I stood.
“Nathaniel, I was cleaning hotel rooms back then.”
“I know.”
“I had never met her.”
“I know.”
“Then why would your wife tell an agency to hire me someday?”
He looked at another page.
“She attached a condition.”
“What condition?”
“Only place Clara Delgado if she applies voluntarily.”
That shut me up.
Evelyn had not sent recruiters after me.
She had waited.
As if she knew eventually I might need work.
“How did she know my name?”
Nathaniel reached for a folder.
Inside were documents from a community health center in the Bronx.
Three years earlier, I had volunteered there twice a week while Sophia’s father was still alive.
At least, alive technically.
Mateo Delgado had been my husband.
He also had been an addict.
A charming, funny, brilliant man who could disappear for days when the pills became more important than anything else.
He died from an overdose when Sophia was eleven months old.
I had not told Nathaniel.
It never seemed relevant.
Until now.
I stared at one photograph.
Evelyn stood beside a row of donated boxes at the health center.
Behind her—
Me.
Pregnant with Sophia.
I covered my mouth.
“I remember that day.”
Nathaniel watched me.
“Did you meet her?”
“No.”
I looked closer.
“I was helping distribute food.”
Evelyn had apparently spent an afternoon there anonymously through one of Reed Global’s charities.
Another picture showed me carrying a crying toddler whose mother was being treated.
Evelyn stood twenty feet away.
Watching.
A note beside the photograph was written in her handwriting.
Clara Delgado. Reliable. Kind under pressure. Does not abandon children.
My throat tightened.
“She investigated me?”
“Maybe observed.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Yes.”
At least he agreed.
Then he opened another letter.
This one addressed to a lawyer named Margaret Sloan.
If anything happens to me, and if Nathaniel ever needs someone outside Reed Global’s existing circle near Eli, Clara Delgado may be suitable. She doesn’t know us. That is the point.
I stared.
“She chose me as some kind of backup?”
Nathaniel’s face had gone pale.
“She was afraid everyone close to us could be compromised.”
“And she picked a stranger?”
“She picked someone Martin didn’t know.”
I looked toward the stairs.
Sophia was asleep upstairs.
Eli too.
Two children tangled in something Evelyn had started years before.
“But Teresa knew me.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“That’s what worries me.”
Teresa Bell had worked at the same health center.
Not as staff.
As a volunteer coordinator.
I remembered her now.
Different hair.
Different last name.
But the same smile.
“She found me before the daycare.”
“Yes.”
“And before I applied here.”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
Nathaniel’s security chief, Aaron Pike, entered the kitchen.
He had replaced two guards overnight after finding both had received money from an outside consulting firm.
Nathaniel looked up.
“Tell me.”
Aaron placed a tablet on the counter.
“We found Teresa.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Queens.”
I stood.
“I want to go.”
Nathaniel answered instantly.
“No.”
I turned.
“That woman had access to my daughter.”
“Exactly.”
“So I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Nathaniel.”
“You’re not interrogating someone connected to a possible murder.”
“I’m not asking permission.”
His jaw tightened.
Aaron looked at the ceiling, suddenly fascinated by architecture.
Nathaniel lowered his voice.
“Clara.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Use that tone.”
“What tone?”
“The billionaire-people-usually-obey-me tone.”
Aaron coughed.
Nathaniel stared at him.
Aaron stopped.
I continued.
“She gave my child something that made her sleep. If you think I’m waiting here—”
“She may be dangerous.”
“So are you, apparently.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“You employ armed men.”
“That is security.”
“It is still people with guns.”
Nathaniel rubbed one hand over his face.
“Fine.”
I blinked.
“That worked?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I am.”
“We go together.”
Teresa lived in a basement apartment beneath a laundromat.
No mansion.
No secret fortress.
Just a narrow door and a broken buzzer.
Aaron entered first.
Then Nathaniel.
Then me.
Teresa was fifty-three.
She opened the door holding a coffee mug.
The moment she saw me, she started crying.
“Sophia.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Is she okay?”
I stepped forward.
“You tell me.”
Teresa put the mug down.
“I never hurt her.”
“You gave her gummies.”
Her face collapsed.
“They were vitamins.”
“She fell asleep.”
“They contained melatonin.”
I stared.
“You gave a two-year-old melatonin without telling me?”
“I know.”
“That is not better.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Teresa looked toward Nathaniel.
“Because I needed to check the mark.”
“What mark?” I demanded.
She looked at me.
“Behind Sophia’s ear.”
My blood went cold.
Sophia had a tiny crescent-shaped birthmark behind her left ear.
So small most people missed it.
“How do you know about that?”
Teresa started crying harder.
“Because Evelyn told me.”
Nathaniel went still.
“My wife?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I worked for her privately.”
“Doing what?”
“Finding someone.”
Teresa looked at me.
“Finding Clara.”
I stared.
“She already knew who I was.”
“No.”
Teresa shook her head.
“She knew your last name. She knew Mateo.”
My heart stopped.
“What did my husband have to do with Evelyn Reed?”
Teresa looked sick.
“More than you think.”
Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
Teresa sat down.
Years earlier, before Mateo’s addiction destroyed our life, he had worked as a network security contractor.
I knew that.
I thought he installed systems for banks and hospitals.
Apparently, one of his clients had been Reed Global.
“He found Project Orion,” Teresa said.
Nathaniel froze.
“My Mateo?”
“Yes.”
“He discovered the shell accounts?”
“Some of them.”
“Then why didn’t he tell anyone?”
“He tried.”
Teresa looked at me.
“He contacted Evelyn.”
My throat closed.
The timing made horrifying sense.
Mateo’s behavior changed three years before he died.
Paranoia.
Insomnia.
Then pills.
Then harder drugs.
He claimed people followed him.
I thought addiction had made him delusional.
“What happened?”
“Evelyn paid him to copy the files.”
“And Martin found out?”
Teresa nodded.
“Mato was threatened.”
I sank onto the edge of a chair.
“Nobody told me.”
“He wanted you kept out.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That worked beautifully.”
Teresa’s eyes filled.
“He told Evelyn something before he disappeared.”
“What?”
“If anything happens to me, protect Clara and the baby.”
I stopped breathing.
Nathaniel looked at me.
Teresa continued.
“Evelyn tried.”
“By watching me?”
“By keeping distance.”
“Then why the birthmark?”
Teresa swallowed.
“Mateo said if anyone ever came claiming to be family or trying to move Sophia, verify the crescent.”
I stared.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Nathaniel went very still.
“What was Mateo afraid someone would do?”
Teresa looked at him.
“Replace her.”
Silence.
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
“That is insane.”
Teresa opened a drawer.
She removed a photograph.
Mateo stood beside another man outside Reed Global headquarters.
I recognized Mateo immediately.
The other man—
Nathaniel did too.
“Martin.”
My hand covered my mouth.
On the back, Mateo had written:
If anything happens to me, Martin Shaw knows why.
Nathaniel stared at it.
Then his phone rang.
Aaron answered first.
His face changed.
“Mr. Reed.”
Nathaniel looked up.
“What?”
“Martin is at the house.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“With who?”
“Board counsel.”
Nathaniel stood.
“Why?”
Aaron listened.
Then looked at us.
“He says he’s there to discuss Mr. Reed’s mental fitness.”
Nathaniel’s expression turned cold.
“What does that mean?”
Aaron hesitated.
“He brought documents.”
Nathaniel grabbed his coat.
Then Aaron added the part that made us all stop.
May you like
“Mrs. Campbell says Martin asked to see Eli.”
We were already moving before he finished.
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