Chapter 3 - THE SIGNATURE THAT DIDN'T BELONG TO HIMChadworth read the document three times.
The signature looked perfect.
Every curve, every sharp angle, even the slight upward flourish he added to the final letter of his surname had been reproduced.
He had signed thousands of contracts in his lifetime.
He knew his handwriting.
And he knew he hadn't signed this document.
“Where did you get it?”
Cora sat opposite him.
“My office received a request to confirm its authenticity. Someone at Briar Glen Family Wellness Center apparently wanted verification before accepting the girls.”
“Briar Glen?”
“A private residential facility in northern Pennsylvania.”
“My daughters don't need residential treatment.”
“I agree. But the application describes severe behavioral disturbances, emotional instability, and aggressive incidents involving household staff.”
Chadworth stood.
“That's a lie.”
“Then we document that it's a lie.”
He moved toward the window.
Beyond the glass, the mansion's immaculate lawn stretched toward a row of maple trees.
Only hours earlier, he'd considered this view evidence of everything he had accomplished.
Now it felt like the scenery surrounding a crime.
“Who submitted the paperwork?”
Cora examined the final page.
“Sabina Voss is listed as the proposed caregiver.”
“And the witness?”
She hesitated.
“Elliott Crane.”
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Chadworth had known Elliott for fifteen years.
The attorney had helped him navigate acquisitions, lawsuits, and difficult negotiations.
After Evelyn died, Elliott was among the first people to arrive at the hospital.
He had placed a hand on Chadworth's shoulder and promised to protect the family's interests.
Now his name appeared beside a forged authorization to remove two frightened girls from their home.
Chadworth reached for his phone.
Cora stopped him.
“Don't.”
“I want answers.”
“And you'll get them. But if Elliott is involved, calling him now gives him time to destroy evidence.”
Chadworth slowly lowered the phone.
“What do we do?”
“We make sure Briar Glen knows the authorization is disputed and must not be acted upon. I'll contact law enforcement about the forgery and attempted unauthorized transfer. We should also have an independent specialist examine the documents.”
“Do it.”
Cora looked at him carefully.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“You may need to temporarily separate yourself from your company's internal legal team.”
“Elliott controls most of it.”
“Exactly.”
The implications settled over Chadworth.
For years, he had delegated almost every difficult matter to trusted executives. He had built a corporation whose systems were designed to continue operating when he wasn't personally involved.
That efficiency had made him wealthy.
It might also have made him dangerously ignorant.
A soft knock interrupted them.
Rosamund stood in the doorway.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Prescott. Lorelai would like to speak with you.”
Chadworth immediately rose.
“Of course.”
Rosamund hesitated.
“She asked whether Miss Bennett could come too.”
Cora exchanged a glance with him.
“Only if Lorelai is comfortable.”
They found the girl in the sunroom.
Gemma sat beside her, hugging Bramble.
Lorelai's schoolbag rested on the floor.
The sunroom had been Evelyn's favorite space. She used to grow basil, lavender, and small lemon trees along the windows.
After her death, the plants had gradually disappeared.
Chadworth had instructed the staff to redecorate because walking into the room hurt too much.
Now, looking at the empty shelves, he realized his solution to grief had been to remove every reminder of the woman his daughters desperately wanted to remember.
He sat on the sofa.
“What's on your mind, sweetheart?”
Lorelai looked at Cora.
“Are you the lady who helped Mommy with her papers?”
Cora's face softened.
“Yes. I worked with your mother.”
“Mommy liked you.”
“I liked her very much.”
Lorelai swallowed.
“Can I tell you something without getting Rosamund fired?”
Chadworth felt the question like a blow.
“Nothing you say will cost Rosamund her job.”
“And you won't be mad?”
“No.”
Lorelai glanced toward her sister.
“Sabina kept asking us about Mommy's things.”
Chadworth leaned forward.
“What things?”
“Her books. Her jewelry. The boxes in the attic.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said there might be important papers Daddy needed.”
Cora became very still.
“What kind of papers?”
Lorelai hugged a pillow to her chest.
“I don't know. She kept talking about a blue book.”
Chadworth looked at Cora.
“Evelyn had dozens of notebooks.”
Lorelai shook her head.
“Not a regular notebook.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mommy called it her blue ledger.”
Cora's expression changed so subtly that Chadworth might have missed it if he hadn't been watching her.
“You've heard of it,” he said.
Cora didn't answer immediately.
Lorelai continued.
“Sabina asked Gemma where Mommy hid it. She said there was a reward if we helped her find it.”
Gemma looked up.
“She promised me a new rabbit.”
Chadworth glanced at the battered toy in her arms.
“Did you tell her anything?”
Gemma shook her head fiercely.
“No. Mommy said Bramble was special.”
Lorelai placed one protective hand on Gemma's shoulder.
“When I said we didn't know where the book was, Sabina got really angry.”
Rosamund lowered herself onto a chair.
“She searched the playroom last week,” she said quietly. “I thought she was looking for something she'd lost.”
Cora looked thoughtful.
“Lorelai, did your mother ever explain what was inside that ledger?”
The girl stared toward the windows.
“Numbers.”
“What kind of numbers?”
“Money. Addresses. Names of people.”
“Do you remember any names?”
Lorelai hesitated.
“Redwater.”
Chadworth stiffened.
Redwater.
A former industrial district where Prescott Meridian had undertaken a massive redevelopment project three years earlier.
The project had generated extraordinary profits.
It had also become the subject of a few minor environmental complaints that his executives assured him were exaggerated.
Evelyn had argued against the development.
He remembered that now.
He remembered the fights.
The late-night conversations.
Her insistence that the company was hiding something.
He had dismissed her concerns as excessive caution.
“Evelyn was investigating Redwater,” Cora said.
Chadworth turned.
“You knew?”
“She came to me shortly before the accident. She wanted independent advice.”
“About what?”
“Possible financial misconduct connected to an environmental cleanup fund.”
Chadworth felt suddenly cold.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Your wife asked me not to disclose confidential discussions without her permission. After her death, I tried to reach you about several unresolved matters. Elliott told me you were handling them internally.”
Of course he had.
Elliott had handled almost everything.
Cora continued.
“I never saw the ledger itself. Evelyn said she was assembling evidence, but she wanted to verify it before making formal accusations.”
Chadworth looked toward Lorelai.
“Sweetheart, did Mommy ever tell you where she kept it?”
Lorelai was silent for so long that he thought she wouldn't answer.
Then she reached into her schoolbag and removed a small folded paper.
It was a drawing.
A crooked greenhouse stood beneath an enormous yellow sun. A blue rabbit sat beside the door.
At the bottom, in Evelyn's familiar handwriting, were seven words:
When you need the truth, follow Bramble.
Chadworth stared at the paper.
Outside, beyond the maple trees, the old greenhouse stood abandoned.
He had ordered it locked after Evelyn's death.
Before he could speak, Lorelai caught his hand.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
May you like
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Sabina already found out about the drawing. Yesterday, she told someone on the phone that if she couldn't find Mommy's ledger, she'd make Gemma tell her where it was.”
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