Chapter 9
Charles turned on his daughter before he turned on me.
“You idiot.”
Celeste stared.
“You knew she had the key?”
“Yes.”
“You never told me?”
“I was handling it.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You were playing games.”
There.
Different generations.
Same cruelty.
Charles stole quietly.
Celeste humiliated publicly.
She had inherited entitlement without discipline.
I looked at Charles.
“How did she know about the key?”
He said nothing.
Celeste answered.
“Mom.”
I frowned.
Her mother, Lydia Vaughn, had died three years earlier.
At least officially.
Charles went pale.
Interesting.
“Explain.”
Celeste smiled.
“My mother isn’t dead.”
Erin stared.
I did not move.
“Where is she?”
Charles snapped.
“Enough.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
Celeste enjoyed his discomfort.
That told me their alliance was weaker than I thought.
“She lives in Vermont.”
“Why fake her death?”
Charles looked away.
Celeste answered again.
“Because Rocco’s old people thought she knew too much.”
My jaw tightened.
Lydia had helped administer the relief fund before disappearing.
“She knew about Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“All of it.”
Charles closed his eyes.
There.
I leaned forward.
“Why didn’t she expose you?”
Celeste’s smile faded.
“Because Dad threatened to leave her with nothing.”
Charles slammed his palm on the table.
“Stop.”
Celeste laughed.
“What? You want loyalty now?”
Erin stared at them.
I understood something important.
This family had spent years teaching everyone around it that survival meant silence.
Daniel refused.
He died.
Erin’s mother resisted.
Support disappeared.
Lydia knew.
She vanished.
Erin tried to reach me.
Celeste prepared humiliation.
Different methods.
Same objective.
Keep truth beneath rank.
I looked at Charles.
“Bring Lydia back.”
He stared.
“No.”
My voice stayed low.
“That was not a request.”
His face changed.
Celeste stopped smiling.
May you like
Whatever Lydia Vaughn knew had frightened her husband for three years.
That made her the next person I needed to hear.
