CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Second Will
Willa did not sleep.
She sat at Daniel's kitchen table until dawn, staring at the photograph of the newborn baby.
Eleven years old.
That was what the date said.
Eleven years ago, her mother had given birth.
Three years after she had supposedly died.
Willa kept returning to the same question.
Who was the child?
And why did Nathan know where he was?
Daniel stood at the sink.
“You should rest.”
“I can't.”
“You've been awake for two days.”
“I know.”
“You're pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You nearly lost the baby.”
Willa looked down at her stomach.
The baby moved beneath her hand.
A small, almost imperceptible movement.
She closed her eyes.
“That's why I can't rest.”
Daniel turned.
“What?”
“If someone is trying to hurt my baby, I need to know why.”
“You will.”
“When?”
“When we find the second will.”
Willa looked up.
“You knew about it?”
“I knew Miriam had one.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You said you knew.”
“I knew it existed.”
“That's different.”
Daniel sighed.
“Miriam never trusted a single person with everything.”
“Except herself.”
“No.”
Daniel looked at her.
“She didn't even trust herself.”
“What does that mean?”
“She left pieces of the truth with different people.”
Willa thought about Nathan.
Adrian.
Evelyn.
Her mother.
Everyone had one piece.
And everyone seemed terrified of the whole.
“Where would she hide a will?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Somewhere no one would search.”
Willa looked at the photograph.
“Blackwood Lane.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“The property Adrian mentioned.”
“You can't go there.”
“Why?”
“Because that's where Miriam kept the first amendment.”
“And the second will.”
“Maybe.”
Willa stood.
“Then we're going.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
“Your husband?”
“Doesn't know.”
“Adrian?”
“Won't know.”
“Celeste?”
Willa looked at him.
“Especially not Celeste.”
Blackwood Lane was nearly an hour from the city.
The road became narrower as they drove.
Trees covered both sides.
No houses.
No streetlights.
No signs.
Finally, an iron gate appeared.
Daniel slowed.
The gate was open.
Willa stared.
“Was it supposed to be?”
“No.”
“Then someone has been here.”
Daniel stopped the car.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Willa noticed something.
The gate had been freshly damaged.
One hinge was bent.
Daniel looked at it.
“Someone forced it.”
“Recently?”
“Very.”
Willa's stomach tightened.
“Let's go.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“You stay in the car.”
“I've spent my whole life being told to stay somewhere while other people decide what happens to me.”
“Willa—”
“No.”
She opened the door.
Daniel followed.
The house stood at the end of a long gravel drive.
It was enormous.
Older than any Rowe property Willa had ever seen.
Black stone.
Tall windows.
A roof covered in moss.
The front door stood open.
Willa stopped.
“Someone is inside.”
Daniel nodded.
He reached into his coat.
“What is that?”
“A flashlight.”
“You looked like you were reaching for a gun.”
“I was.”
Willa stared at him.
“Daniel.”
“I don't want you dead.”
“Neither do I.”
They entered.
The house smelled of dust.
And something else.
Smoke.
Willa looked around.
The furniture was covered with white sheets.
Portraits lined the walls.
Rowe ancestors.
Men.
Women.
Children.
She stopped in front of one.
A young woman stood beside Calder.
The plaque beneath it read:
Miriam Alexandra Rowe — 1984
Willa stared.
Her grandmother looked young.
Happy.
Almost innocent.
Daniel touched her shoulder.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because every portrait in this house is part of a lie.”
Willa looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Look closer.”
She did.
There was a second figure behind Miriam.
A man.
His face had been scratched out.
Willa's heart jumped.
“Who is that?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
She moved closer.
At the bottom of the frame was a small inscription.
Family, 1984.
Willa took a photograph with her phone.
Then she noticed something else.
The scratched-out man's hand.
A silver ring.
The same ring Nathan wore.
Her stomach dropped.
“Daniel.”
“I see it.”
“That's impossible.”
“Not anymore.”
They searched the library first.
Nothing.
Then the study.
Nothing.
Then the bedroom.
Nothing.
Willa found a locked cabinet.
Daniel tried the key from the desk.
It opened.
Inside were legal documents.
Property deeds.
Tax records.
Trust agreements.
Willa pulled out one folder.
Her name was written on it.
WILLA MIRIAM VALE — CONFIDENTIAL
She opened it.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Her own.
But the name of the father was blank.
Willa stared.
“My father was deliberately removed.”
Daniel nodded.
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
“I don't know.”
She turned the page.
There was another document.
A custody agreement.
Signed by Miriam.
The date was eleven years ago.
Willa frowned.
“That's the same year as the baby.”
Daniel said nothing.
The document named a guardian.
Nathan Rowe.
Willa stopped breathing.
“No.”
Daniel looked at the page.
“He was appointed guardian.”
“Of whom?”
The document didn't say.
The child's name had been redacted.
Willa turned another page.
A medical record.
Again, the name was hidden.
But the mother's name was visible.
Her mother.
And the guardian—
Nathan.
Willa's hands began shaking.
“Nathan knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew about the child.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he never tell me?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Maybe because the child is connected to the trust.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
Willa turned another page.
There was a handwritten note.
The child must remain hidden until Willa activates the Second Will.
Willa stared.
“What is the Second Will?”
Daniel pointed to the final line.
“That's what we've been looking for.”
Willa read it again.
Her mother's handwriting.
She recognized it immediately.
The child must remain hidden until Willa activates the Second Will.
Her breathing became shallow.
“Why would my mother hide her own child?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Maybe she wasn't hiding the child.”
“What then?”
“She was hiding the child from someone.”
“Who?”
Before Daniel could answer, they heard a sound upstairs.
A floorboard creaked.
They both froze.
Then another.
Someone was walking above them.
Daniel whispered:
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Willa.”
“I've had enough.”
He looked at her.
She picked up the heavy brass lamp from the desk.
“I'm coming.”
The second floor was dark.
The footsteps stopped.
Daniel checked the first room.
Empty.
The second.
Empty.
The third—
A window was open.
Rain blew through it.
Willa stepped inside.
There was a table near the wall.
On it sat a single envelope.
Her name was written across the front.
WILLA.
She looked at Daniel.
He nodded.
She opened it.
Inside was a letter.
The handwriting was unmistakably Miriam's.
My dear Willa,
Willa's eyes filled.
She read.
If you are reading this, then I am already gone—or someone has made you believe that I am.
Her heart tightened.
There are two wills. The first protects the Rowe empire. The second protects you.
Willa turned the page.
The first will determines what you inherit.
The second determines who controls it.
She swallowed.
Daniel leaned closer.
Willa continued.
I know they will try to make you believe the money is the reason you are being hunted. It is not.
The money is only the door.
Willa stopped.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel shook his head.
She continued.
The truth about my death is the key.
Her hands trembled.
If you can prove how I died, the Second Will activates.
Willa stared.
“Her death.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“The condition.”
She read the next paragraph.
No one may control the Rowe assets until the circumstances of my death are established beyond reasonable doubt.
Then:
Not Celeste.
Not Nathan.
Not Adrian.
Not Calder.
Willa's heart pounded.
Then she reached the final page.
At the bottom was a signature.
Miriam Alexandra Rowe.
Underneath it was the date.
Willa stopped.
She looked again.
Then again.
Daniel took the paper from her.
His face went pale.
“What?”
He read the date.
Neither spoke.
The date was impossible.
Miriam had supposedly died in—
March 2012.
But the will had been signed in—
November 2015.
Three years later.
Willa whispered:
“She signed it after she died.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes.”
“That's impossible.”
“Unless she wasn't dead.”
Willa's eyes filled with tears.
Her mother had signed a legal document three years after her official death.
Not a rumor.
Not a photograph.
Not a message.
A legal document.
A document that could change the ownership of an empire.
Willa touched the signature.
“It looks like her.”
“It is her.”
“How do you know?”
Daniel looked at her.
“I watched her sign hundreds of documents.”
Willa stared.
“So she was alive.”
“Yes.”
“In 2015.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did she disappear?”
Daniel didn't answer.
“Where was she?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
Willa looked back at the signature.
There was something strange about it.
The ink was slightly darker than the rest.
Fresh.
Almost too fresh.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“This isn't the original.”
He looked.
“What?”
“It's a copy.”
She held the paper to the light.
“There.”
A faint watermark appeared.
Certified Duplicate.
Daniel's face changed.
“The original is somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Willa looked at the letter.
There was one final sentence at the bottom.
The original will is with the person who knows why I had to die twice.
Willa stared.
“Die twice.”
Daniel whispered:
“That's not metaphorical.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from downstairs.
A door slammed.
Daniel grabbed Willa's arm.
“We need to leave.”
They reached the staircase.
Someone was standing below.
A man.
Tall.
Dark coat.
His face was hidden.
Daniel pulled Willa behind the wall.
The man walked into the library.
He stopped.
Looked around.
Then called someone.
“She's been here.”
Willa's blood froze.
Daniel whispered:
“Don't move.”
The man turned.
His eyes lifted toward the staircase.
He had heard them.
He walked toward them.
Daniel pushed Willa toward the hallway.
“Run.”
They ran.
A gunshot exploded behind them.
The bullet struck the wall.
Willa screamed.
Daniel shoved her through a side door.
They ran into the garden.
Rain poured over them.
Another gunshot.
Then another.
They reached the car.
Daniel opened the door.
Willa climbed inside.
He started the engine.
The car shot down the gravel drive.
Willa looked back.
The man stood in the doorway.
Watching them.
He didn't chase.
He simply stood there.
As if he knew they would come back.
They returned to Daniel's house before sunrise.
Willa couldn't stop shaking.
She placed the copy of the will on the table.
Daniel studied it.
“There's something wrong.”
“What?”
“The signature.”
“You said it was genuine.”
“It is.”
“Then what's wrong?”
“The date.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He pointed to the bottom.
“Look at the witness signatures.”
Willa leaned closer.
There were two witnesses.
One was a lawyer.
The other was—
Willa froze.
“Adrian.”
Daniel nodded.
“Adrian witnessed it.”
“But he said he helped Miriam hide money.”
“He did.”
“And he witnessed the will.”
“Yes.”
“So he knew.”
“Apparently.”
Willa's phone rang.
Adrian.
She answered.
“Where are you?”
“Not far.”
“Did you know about the Second Will?”
Silence.
“Adrian.”
“Yes.”
“You witnessed it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Celeste?”
“Yes.”
“Only Celeste?”
“No.”
“Who else?”
Adrian took a breath.
“Nathan.”
Willa closed her eyes.
“Why?”
“Because Nathan didn't want the will found.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what happened in November 2015.”
Silence.
“Adrian.”
“I can't.”
“You witnessed my grandmother sign the will.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Blackwood Lane.”
“Who else was there?”
Adrian didn't answer.
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
Willa's breath caught.
“My mother was there.”
“Yes.”
“Alive.”
“Yes.”
“And Nathan?”
A long silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Willa's hand tightened around the phone.
“Was he there too?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Adrian's voice dropped.
“Your mother gave Nathan the original.”
“The original will?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She trusted him.”
Willa looked at the copy.
“Then where is it now?”
Adrian didn't answer.
“Adrian.”
“I don't know.”
“Who has it?”
Another silence.
Then Adrian said:
“Celeste.”
Willa's heart stopped.
“Celeste has the original Second Will?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She stole it from Nathan.”
Willa stared at Daniel.
“Why would Nathan keep it?”
“Because he was protecting it.”
“From Celeste?”
“From everyone.”
“Why?”
Adrian's voice became almost a whisper.
“Because the Second Will doesn't just give you control.”
“What else does it do?”
“It names the person responsible for Miriam's death.”
Willa couldn't breathe.
“Who?”
Adrian hung up.
Three hours later, Celeste stood inside her private office.
The original Second Will lay on her desk.
She had found it in Adrian's hidden safe.
She had known for years that it existed.
But she had never been able to read it.
Until now.
She opened the final page.
The signature was clear.
Miriam Alexandra Rowe.
November 18, 2015.
Celeste smiled.
“Impossible.”
Then she read the final clause.
Her smile disappeared.
If my death was caused by the actions of another person, that person shall be named in a sealed statement attached to this will.
Celeste's hands began shaking.
She opened the sealed statement.
Read the first line.
Stopped.
Read it again.
Her face went white.
Then someone entered the room.
“Did you find it?”
Celeste turned.
Nathan stood in the doorway.
She stared at him.
“You knew.”
Nathan didn't move.
“You knew what this said.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you destroy it?”
“Because I couldn't.”
“You could have.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Nathan's expression was empty.
“Because Miriam asked me not to.”
Celeste laughed.
“She is dead.”
Nathan looked at the will.
“Are you sure?”
Celeste's smile disappeared.
“What?”
Nathan stepped closer.
“You keep saying she's dead.”
Celeste stared at him.
“Because she is.”
“Then explain the signature.”
Silence.
Nathan looked at the document.
“November 18, 2015.”
Celeste's hand tightened around the paper.
“You knew she was alive.”
“I knew she was alive in 2015.”
“And after?”
Nathan didn't answer.
Celeste stepped toward him.
“You're still protecting her.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Nathan looked at her.
“You.”
Celeste froze.
“What?”
“The person named in the sealed statement.”
She slowly opened it again.
The name was still there.
She stared at it.
Nathan watched her.
“Now you understand.”
Celeste's lips parted.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“This can't be.”
Nathan's voice was quiet.
“Miriam knew.”
“Knew what?”
“What you did.”
Celeste stepped back.
“I didn't kill her.”
“I know.”
“Then why is my name here?”
Nathan looked at her.
“Because you weren't the one who killed her.”
Celeste's face went pale.
“You were.”
Nathan said nothing.
Celeste stared.
Then she understood.
“No.”
Nathan's eyes filled with something close to grief.
“You didn't kill Miriam.”
He stepped closer.
“You only helped the person who did.”
Celeste's hand shook.
“Who?”
Nathan looked toward the door.
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
And in the darkness, a woman's voice spoke from somewhere inside the room.
“You should have burned the will, Celeste.”
Celeste screamed.
Nathan turned.
A figure stood behind the desk.
A woman.
Older.
Pale.
Her face half hidden by shadow.
But Nathan knew that voice.
He whispered one word.
“Miriam.”
The woman looked at him.
Then at Celeste.
May you like
And smiled.
“Did you really think I was dead?”
