Chapter 5

Clara's POV

I called over and over, but my mother never picked up.

I figured she had likely gone to the Pierce manor, but the security guards would never let her past the gates. Once she was turned away, she would come home.

As the sun fully crested the horizon, Julian called from abroad. "The new legal identities for you and your mother are almost ready. The only issue is Leo. Because he isn't legally registered under your name, you're missing several critical documents required to clear customs."

Those documents were undoubtedly in Vincent's possession.

He had always claimed that the luxury two-bedroom condo downtown was an executive suite provided by his engineering firm. The day I arrived in the city, he handed me the keys, telling me I could stay there whenever I wanted.

I had treated those keys like an open door he kept for our family.

Today, I had to use them to break into his place and retrieve my own son's records.

I entrusted Leo to our downstairs neighbor's care and headed out, timing my arrival for when Vincent would be at work.

The condo was on the twenty-third floor. It bore no resemblance to "company housing"—the building required keycard access just to enter the lobby.

The interior was decorated in minimalist black, white, and gray tones, clearly rarely inhabited.

I headed straight for the study.

Mounted against the back wall behind the desk was a digital combination safe.

I sent Julian a quick message. Half an hour later, a man wearing a baseball cap arrived, set his toolkit on the floor, and cracked the lock in under ten minutes.

Sitting right on top was a marriage certificate. In the photo, Vincent smiled gently, with Lorelei leaning softly against him, her right arm resting lightly on his sleeve.

Underneath the certificate lay Leo's birth records.

In the line labeled 'Mother,' Lorelei Vance was listed.

The child I brought into this world was, on paper, another woman's son.

All the midnight feedings, the frantic hospital visits, the moments I taught him how to say his first words—not a single trace of my existence was written into that legal document.

I snapped photos of the paperwork and sent them to Julian, gripping the edges so hard they crumpled before placing them back.

Just as I locked the safe door, my phone buzzed. It was an unknown number from a local hospital.

A nurse's voice came through, breathless with urgency. "Are you the family member of the elderly woman brought in this morning? The patient suffered a severe fall down a flight of stairs and is in critical resuscitation! Please come immediately!"

I sprinted toward the hospital. The subway was packed, and my tears fell uncontrollably, faster than I could wipe them away.

When I arrived outside the trauma room, the red light had just turned off.

The doctor pulled down his surgical mask and shook his head somberly. "I'm so sorry. We did everything we could. The patient sustained severe cranial trauma from the fall. She was already gone by the time the ambulance arrived."

I grabbed the doctor's coat sleeve, my knees instantly giving out. "Please check again! She was completely fine last night!"

The doctor remained silent, gently sliding his sleeve from my grip.

The downstairs neighbor arrived, holding Leo by the hand.

Leo tugged on my skirt, tilting his little face up. "Mommy... where's Grandma? Where did Grandma go?"

Unable to speak, I pulled him into my arms, burying my face in his neck.

The nurse handed me my mother's belongings: a faded blue canvas bag containing only a ring of keys and a half-eaten roll of peppermint candies.

The cheap little flip phone she never went anywhere without was missing.

My father had bought that phone for her before he passed away. She carried it everywhere, even tucking it into her pocket when she went out for morning walks.

Of the three people I planned to take away, my mother's new identity had just been finalized this morning. Now, it was useless.

I had brought her away from our small town hoping she could enjoy a few peaceful, comfortable years in the city. Yet all she had ever done here was scrub Vincent's wife's floors, only to die on the pavement after falling down the stairs of his mansion.

Holding that canvas bag on the hallway bench, an overwhelming sense of dread crept over me.

How could she have fallen down the stairs for no reason?

I called the police.

An investigation was opened, and officers went to the Pierce manor to review security footage.

During my statement, an officer glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then leaned in and whispered, "Take my advice—don't try to fight the Pierce family. You won't win."

Two days later, he called me back. "The case has been closed as an accidental fall. The security camera at the third-floor stairwell happened to be malfunctioning that day, and there were no signs of a struggle. Your mother simply lost her footing."

I hung up the phone and marched straight to the Pierce manor.

Standing before those towering black iron gates, I pounded on the metal, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Vincent Pierce! Come out here and face me! Give me an explanation!"

The main gate never opened. Instead, two private security guards in black suits stepped out through the side entrance, shoving me hard to the ground.

"Get lost! You think you can just come making a scene at the Pierce estate?!"

I crashed onto the concrete, my palms tearing open and bleeding.

My phone buzzed. It was Vincent.

"Clara, consider this my final warning. Stop this right now. If you dare take another step toward my family, you will never see Leo again."

He hung up immediately.

I had actually believed there was still justice to be found in this city—filing reports, opening cases, pulling surveillance footage, following the rules.

Yet all I received was an excuse about a broken camera and a warning not to cross the powerful.

All I had to fight with was myself, while he held my child hostage to silence me at any second.

Sitting on the cold pavement, clutching my phone, I couldn't shed a single tear.

I stood up, staggering down the sidewalk.

Before I had walked very far, hurried footsteps approached from behind. It was a middle-aged man wearing gray groundskeeper overalls.

He glanced nervously over both shoulders, his voice barely audible. "You're the daughter of the elderly woman from yesterday, right? I'm the groundskeeper at the Pierce estate. I was the first one who found her at the bottom of the stairs. When I shouted for help, Mr. Pierce and Ms. Vance were just coming down from upstairs. This phone was dropped in the corner of the landing. I picked it up and hid it—I didn't give it to them."

What he shoved into my trembling hands was my mother's small flip phone.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and vanished down the street.

I found a secluded park bench, sat down, and pressed play on the voice memo.

Static hissed from the speaker for several seconds, followed by Vincent's cold voice: *“She’s nothing more than an incubator to bear and raise our child—”* Then came Lorelei's soft, mocking chuckle, followed by a frantic scuffle of footsteps—someone running, and someone chasing right behind them.

*Thud!*

After that, there was only dead silence.

The very last thing my mother heard in this life was Vincent plotting how to dispose of her daughter.

When she ran, someone was hunting her down.

I slipped the phone into my inner jacket pocket, pressing it firmly against my chest until it bruised.

I wouldn't tell a soul about this. Not a single word.

As long as this phone remained with me, this case was far from over.