Chapter 23: Blood Money

Ethan left before dawn because guilt made him efficient. Leah wanted to stop him. She wanted to demand every file, every memory, every truth his family had buried under quarterly returns. But Elena's letter had not said trust Ethan. It had said trust him only if he remembered the song. He remembered. That did not make him innocent. By eight, Leah was back at L'Etoile with two hours of sleep and a uniform that smelled faintly of hospital smoke. Rich men still wanted coffee. Women still wanted sparkling water with no lime. The world had the nerve to continue. Megan met her by the service station. "The clerk is safe. Also furious. She wants a lawyer." "Good. Furious witnesses live longer." "And you?" Leah looked toward Table 12, empty at this hour. "I want Martha's money trail." The chance arrived wearing navy cashmere. Catherine Thorne entered alone. No Martha. No Richard. No Olivia. Just Catherine with sunglasses hiding red eyes and a handbag clutched like a shield. She asked for a private booth and tea she did not drink. Leah served her. Catherine's hand shook when she saw Leah's face up close. "You should leave New York," Catherine whispered. "People keep telling me that." "Because they recognize a funeral before it happens." Leah set down the teapot. "Did you sign the birth correction?" Catherine flinched. "Answer me." "I signed what Martha put in front of me." "You stole me." Tears slipped beneath Catherine's sunglasses. "I thought I was saving you." Leah's laugh was quiet and ugly. "From my mother?" "From death. Martha said Elena had made enemies. She said the Voss child would be killed if she stayed visible. I had just lost a baby. I was weak and selfish and terrified, and Martha knew exactly where to press." For one moment, Leah saw not a villain, but a coward. That was almost harder. "Olivia," Leah said. Catherine covered her mouth. "She was yours." "Yes." "And you let her grow up as my sister." "I let Martha build all of us into a house of locked rooms." Leah leaned closer. "Give me a key." Catherine opened her handbag and removed a slim ledger wrapped in silk. "Trust disbursements," she whispered. "Martha kept a private book because she trusted paper more than sons." Leah touched the cover. Catherine did not release it. "If I give you this, she will know I chose you." "No," Leah said. "She will know you chose truth late." Catherine let go. At the first page, Leah saw the same line repeated for years. M-17 / Hunt Capital / Costa transport / infant correction.