Chapter 8: The Woman in the Chapel
Vivienne recognized the lipstick.
“It belongs to Aunt Lydia.”
Lydia Hart was my mother’s younger sister.
According to the family, she had died in a house fire when I was fourteen.
But Lydia’s body had never been formally identified.
Arthur handled the funeral.
Arthur handled the insurance.
Arthur handled everything.
Elena searched the chapel while I examined the altar.
Behind the wooden cross, we found a small brass key.
The key opened a compartment beneath the floor.
Inside was an old phone, a train ticket, and a photograph taken six months earlier.
The woman in the image wore sunglasses and a scarf.
But I recognized her eyes.
My mother’s eyes.
On the back was an address in Boston.
We reached the address that evening.
It belonged to a small bookstore near the harbor.
The owner locked the door when she saw me.
Then she removed her glasses.
A scar crossed the side of her face.
“Celeste,” she whispered.
Aunt Lydia was alive.
She pulled me into her arms.
For a moment, I was a child again.
Then anger returned.
“Why did you let us believe you were dead?”
“Because Arthur tried to kill me.”
Lydia explained that she and my mother had uncovered the illegal shipping operation together.
Arthur arranged the fire after Lydia copied several contracts.
She escaped, but Eleanor forced her into hiding.
“My sister believed Arthur would stop if he thought I was dead.”
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
Lydia had spent years collecting evidence from Europe and Asia.
She knew about Mercer.
The Black Meridian.
The offshore accounts.
And the merger with Dominion Systems.
“Why didn’t you go to the authorities?” I asked.
“Because Arthur owned some of them.”
She looked at Reed.
“And because the last officer Eleanor trusted gave her evidence to Mercer.”
Reed accepted the accusation in silence.
Lydia led us into the bookstore’s basement.
Behind a false wall were hundreds of files.
Enough to destroy Arthur’s empire.
Elena began photographing everything.
Then Lydia handed me a sealed envelope.
“This is from your mother.”
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
My dearest Celeste,
If Arthur discovers what we have done, he will come for you first. He fears you because you see him clearly. But there is something you must know before you choose revenge. Arthur Vale is not your biological father.
I stopped reading.
The room became silent.
Lydia touched my arm.
“Your father was Dr. Elias Ward.”
The missing naval engineer.
The man Arthur allegedly murdered.
Before I could ask another question, a gunshot shattered the basement window.
May you like
Lydia fell into my arms.
And outside, Vice Admiral Mercer disappeared into the night.
