Chapter 9 - THE EVIDENCE NO ONE SAW (continued)
I whispered. “She said Vivian threatened her.”
“She lied.” Adrian’s voice dropped to a low, terrible whisper. “She was not a victim, Grace. She was their partner from the very beginning.”
He pulled another paper from the file. A handwritten note, folded small, found tucked inside Clara’s prayer book. Two names scrawled across the page in her jagged handwriting: GRACE — FRAMED. LEO — SILENCED SOON.
I stared at the words until they blurred.
“She meant to kill him,” I said, horror rising in my throat. “And blame me for it.”
Adrian nodded slowly. “From the start. The break-in. The ribbon. The photograph. The forged documents. Every single move was designed to isolate me. To destroy my trust in you. To leave me with no one to turn to. And then… when Leo died… they would have blamed you, locked you away, and stepped in as the grieving family helping me pick up the pieces.”
“Clara is Harrington family,” I said, pieces clicking together one by one. “Distant cousin. But still blood. If Leo died… and if something happened to you… she stands to inherit.”
“Exactly.” Adrian’s face hardened. “And Vivian? She was the face of the operation. The distraction. Clara pulled the strings from the shadows. The quiet, harmless cousin no one suspected.”
Footsteps thudded in the hallway. The door burst open. Two security guards stood there, breathless.
“Mr. Harrington… Clara is gone. Her room is empty. The fire escape was propped open.”
Adrian went very still.
“She knew we were closing in,” he said. “She heard us discussing the evidence.”
He grabbed his phone and barked orders into it—block all exits. Search the grounds. Find her. Then he turned back to me, his expression torn.
“Grace… I cannot begin to say—”
“Save it,” I said, standing on shaking legs. “Apologize when Leo is safe. Clara knows the hospital. She knows which room. She knows exactly how to get there.”
Adrian paled. “They would not dare—”
“They nearly killed him once already!” I grabbed my coat from the chair. “Come on. Now!”
We raced downstairs and out the front door, the guards scrambling behind us. Adrian drove recklessly, tires screaming through quiet streets, every second stretching like an hour. I gripped the handle above the car door, my mind racing. Clara had been inside this house for months. Watching. Waiting. Pretending to be timid and afraid. While all along… she had been planning to murder a child and frame me for it.
We burst through the hospital doors minutes later, Adrian flashing his identification and sprinting toward the pediatric wing. A nurse stepped into his path.
“Mr. Harrington! Just in time—your cousin was here not five minutes ago. Said she was bringing Leo home at your request.”
My blood turned to ice.
“WHAT?” Adrian roared.
“She signed him out! You authorized it over the phone! She has him right now!”
Adrian seized the nurse by the shoulders. “WHICH WAY?”
“Main entrance! She was heading toward a dark sedan—”
We bolted back outside just as a black car peeled away from the curb, tires screeching. In the rear window, pale and terrified, Leo was pressed against the glass. And leaning over him, her face twisted in a snarl of triumph, was Clara.
“THAT’S HER!” I screamed.
Adrian vaulted into the driver’s seat of his idling car. I threw myself into the passenger side. The engine roared to life.
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“Hold on!” he shouted.
We tore after them.
