Chapter 5 - THE BABY THEY HID FROM MEI sat on the edge of the hotel bed, staring at the carpet.
Jenna was pregnant.
My maid of honor.
My best friend since childhood.
The woman who had helped me choose baby names during a silly conversation over wine two years earlier.
She was carrying my fiancé's child.
And apparently, she had been planning to make me pay for that child's future.
Michael crouched in front of me.
"Claire."
I looked at him.
"Did you hear what Rebecca said?"
He nodded.
"She's pregnant."
"That's what the document claims."
I covered my mouth.
A memory suddenly returned.
Three weeks earlier, Jenna had refused champagne at my bridal shower.
She'd laughed and said she was doing a cleanse.
I had teased her about becoming health-conscious before my wedding.
She'd smiled.
I remembered that smile.
God, I remembered everything.
"Why would she do this?" I whispered.
Michael took my hands.
"I don't know."
"She was my sister."
"I know."
"She slept on our couch when her parents divorced. Dad helped pay her college tuition. Mom gave her a key to our house."
My voice cracked.
"She knew what losing Dad did to me."
Michael pulled me into his arms.
For the first time in days, I cried.
Not because Daniel had cheated.
Not even because my money had been stolen.
I cried because the person who knew every vulnerable part of me had apparently studied those weaknesses and used them as weapons.
After a while, Michael handed me a tissue.
"We'll deal with one thing at a time."
I nodded.
But sleep never came.
At 6:30 the following morning, Jenna called.
I stared at her name until the ringing stopped.
Then she sent a message.
Good morning, bride-to-be! Emergency brunch today. We need to discuss your bachelorette party!
A second message arrived.
Please don't disappear on me. I'm starting to think you love Daniel more than your favorite girl.
I felt physically sick.
Rebecca had told me not to confront anyone yet.
So I typed:
Busy morning. Maybe later.
Jenna replied with three heart emojis.
At nine, Rebecca called.
"We obtained information suggesting Harbor Crown's largest account has been temporarily restricted."
"Because of my fraud report?"
"At least partly. The bank is reviewing the transfers."
"What happens next?"
"We document every unauthorized payment and pursue recovery through the proper channels. I've also contacted the attorney handling your father's trust."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Can Daniel still take the rest?"
"Not through the transfer route we identified yesterday. We've also notified the relevant institutions about the disputed authorizations."
I exhaled.
Then Rebecca said, "There's another issue."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Someone submitted a revised wedding vendor agreement yesterday."
"So?"
"It includes a cancellation penalty of ninety thousand dollars."
I stared at the phone.
"Ninety thousand?"
"Yes. The venue claims you agreed to the amendment."
"I didn't."
"We know."
"Why would Daniel do that?"
"Possibly to pressure you into proceeding with the event, or to create another financial claim against you."
I thought about Magnolia Harbor Estate.
The property involved in the suspicious purchase agreement.
The elegant venue Daniel insisted we use.
Suddenly, none of it felt romantic.
It felt like a trap.
Rebecca continued.
"I'm examining the vendor contracts, but I need you to avoid signing anything else."
"I won't."
"And Claire?"
"Yes?"
"Daniel called my office this morning."
My heart stumbled.
"What did he want?"
"He asked whether I represented you."
"What did you say?"
"That I couldn't discuss my clients."
"What was his reaction?"
"He said you were experiencing an emotional crisis."
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
The story Jenna had been preparing.
Poor Claire.
Unstable Claire.
Grieving Claire.
The woman who couldn't understand paperwork or manage her own money.
Rebecca's voice grew firmer.
"I don't want you handling communications with him alone anymore."
"Okay."
After hanging up, I checked social media.
Jenna had posted a photograph of us from my bridal shower.
We were standing beneath a floral arch, laughing.
Her caption read:
Only nine days until my beautiful best friend marries the love of her life! So grateful to be part of this journey.
Nearly two hundred people had commented.
Best friendship goals!
Claire is so lucky to have you!
You're going to be the prettiest maid of honor!
I stared at the picture.
Jenna's hand rested gently over her stomach.
I hadn't noticed it before.
Now I couldn't stop looking.
At noon, my mother arrived at the hotel.
Eleanor Bennett was sixty-two, a retired elementary school principal with silver-streaked hair and the stubborn heart of a woman who had survived raising two children through every imaginable disaster.
Michael had told her enough to understand something was terribly wrong.
She entered the room carrying homemade chicken soup.
Because that was what my mother did when the world collapsed.
She fed people.
Then she saw my face.
"Oh, sweetheart."
I began crying before she reached me.
Mom held me for a long time.
When I finally told her everything, she listened without interruption.
The dress.
The marriage.
The money.
The pregnancy.
When I finished, she sat completely still.
Then she said, "Your father never trusted Richard Whitmore."
I looked up.
"What?"
She sighed.
"Thomas met Richard at a business luncheon years ago. He said Richard was charming in public but cruel when he thought nobody important was watching."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Daniel seemed different. Your father didn't want to judge a son by his father."
She touched my cheek.
"And because we thought you were happy."
I stared at my hands.
"I was."
"I know."
Mom looked toward Michael.
"There's something else Claire should know."
Michael frowned.
"What?"
She hesitated.
"After your father died, I found an envelope in his desk. It contained documents relating to the Whitmore family."
My heart raced.
"What documents?"
"Your father had been considering a partnership with Richard's company before he became ill."
"Did he invest?"
"No. He declined."
"Why?"
Mom's face darkened.
"He discovered discrepancies in some property valuations."
Michael straightened.
"Do you still have the documents?"
"In the safe at home."
He immediately reached for his phone.
"Rebecca needs to see those."
Mom nodded.
"I'll bring them this afternoon."
Then she looked at me.
"Claire, whatever happens to this wedding, you have not lost your future."
I tried to smile.
But my phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
We need to talk. Jenna is worried about you. Mom says you're making accusations.
I stared at the words.
Another message followed.
I love you. Don't let your brother destroy us.
Then another.
If you cancel this wedding, you'll embarrass both families. Think carefully.
I showed them to Michael.
His expression hardened.
"Don't answer."
But I was already looking at another notification.
A photograph from Jenna.
She was standing in my bedroom.
At my townhouse.
Holding my wedding veil.
Underneath, she'd written:
Found your spare key! Daniel said you were staying with Michael. Don't worry, I'm taking care of everything.
I went cold.
"She's inside my house."
Michael was already standing.
"Call the police."
Mom grabbed my hand.
But before I could dial, Jenna sent another message.
This one contained a photograph of my father's wooden memory box.
The one I kept locked in my bedroom closet.
It held his final letters, his wedding ring, and the handwritten notes he had left for my future children.
Jenna had opened it.
Her message read:
You really should be more careful with important things, Claire.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then my phone rang.
Jenna.
I answered.
"Get out of my house."
She laughed softly.
"Oh, Claire. There you are."
"Leave. Now."
"Why are you so angry?"
"You're trespassing."
The laughter stopped.
"That's a pretty ugly word to use with your best friend."
"Put my father's box down."
Silence.
Then Jenna spoke in a voice I had never heard before.
"You know what's funny? You always had everything."
I gripped the phone.
"What are you talking about?"
"The perfect father. The beautiful house. The inheritance. Daniel."
"Jenna—"
"And even when your father died, people couldn't stop talking about poor, precious Claire."
I felt the blood draining from my face.
"Are you seriously blaming me because my father loved me?"
She laughed bitterly.
"Your father paid for your entire life."
"He helped you too."
"Because he felt sorry for me!"
Her voice rose.
"Do you know how humiliating that was?"
I stared at the wall.
All those years.
All the holidays.
All the kindness my family had offered her.
She had turned it into resentment.
"Jenna, I know about the marriage."
The line went silent.
I continued.
"I know about Harbor Crown. I know about the money."
A breath.
Then she whispered, "Daniel told me you wouldn't find out until after the wedding."
My entire body went still.
She hadn't denied anything.
"Why?" I asked.
Jenna laughed once.
A sharp, ugly sound.
"Because he was supposed to choose me."
"He's already married to you."
"But he still wants your money."
Her voice cracked.
"Do you know what it's like to be somebody's wife and still have to watch him pretend to love another woman?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You helped him deceive me."
"And you kept smiling like an idiot!"
My eyes filled with tears.
Then Jenna said something that silenced the room.
"Daniel promised me your inheritance would fix everything. But now you've ruined the plan."
She paused.
"And if I lose my baby's future because of you, Claire, I swear you'll regret it."
The call ended.
I stood frozen.
Mom reached for me.
But Michael was looking at his phone.
He had quietly recorded my side of the conversation and could hear that I had received threats, though not Jenna's words.
"Rebecca needs to know exactly what she said," he told me.
I nodded.
Then another message arrived from the security company protecting my townhouse.
ALERT: Front door opened. Alarm disarmed using registered code.
The registered code was mine.
I hadn't given it to Jenna.
Or so I thought.
And five minutes later, the security footage showed something I would never forget.
Jenna leaving my house carrying my father's wooden box.
Daniel was waiting in the driveway.
He opened the passenger door for her.
May you like
Then kissed her.
And together, they drove away with the last letters my father had ever written me.
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