Chapter 179 Unraveling Threads
Elena: POV
The envelope arrived on Thursday morning, slipped through the mail slot with a sound that seemed to echo through the entire house.
I didn't rush to pick it up. Instead, I stood in the hallway, coffee mug steady in my hands, and studied the plain white envelope with its clinical return address. Four days—exactly as they'd promised.
Alexander had called from Paris that morning, his voice carrying that familiar tone of casual inquiry. "How are you doing these days? If you run into any trouble, make sure to tell me, okay?"
"We're both fine, just missing you." I'd paused, recognizing the probing nature of his questions. "Haven't run into any trouble so far."
"Good. And remember, if anything comes up—anything at all—you call me immediately. I don't care what time it is in Paris."
"I will," I promised, though I knew I wouldn't.
"I should be back Sunday evening. We'll have dinner together, just the three of us."
"I'd like that," I'd said, already knowing it would never happen.
Now I set down my mug and picked up the envelope. My hands were perfectly steady—I'd spent three days preparing for this moment, running through every possible outcome and my response to each.
The seal broke cleanly. I unfolded the single sheet, my eyes finding the conclusion immediately.
Conclusion: The alleged father, Alexander Hunt, is EXCLUDED as the biological father of the child. Probability of Paternity: 0%.
I read it once, then folded the paper and slipped it into my pocket. No shock. No betrayal. Just the cold satisfaction of a theory confirmed.
Of course Alexander wasn't Lila's father. It fit perfectly with everything else—the convenient amnesia, the isolated location, the careful construction of a reality designed to keep me dependent. Why would he tell the truth about something this fundamental when everything else had been a lie?
Upstairs, I could hear Lila singing to herself. The sound made my chest tighten. Whatever Alexander's lies, whatever game he was playing, she was innocent in all of this. And she was my priority now.
I walked to the kitchen and pulled out my laptop, opening a private browser window. My searches over the past few days had been careful, methodical. Julian's warning about Alexander's surveillance had made me paranoid about digital footprints, but I'd found ways around it—public wifi, cleared browsing history, cash payments for everything.
I'd already identified the investigator I wanted: M. Investigations. No flashy website, no testimonials, just a reputation for discretion and results. I'd been waiting for the paternity results before making contact, needing to know exactly what I was dealing with.
Now I knew.
I typed quickly:
Subject: URGENT - Multiple inquiries needed
Message: I need comprehensive information on Josephine Vance - burial location, circumstances of death, any irregularities. Died approximately 4 years ago, possibly New York area. Also need background check on Alexander Hunt, London-based businessman. Discretion essential. Willing to pay premium for expedited results.
I signed it Elena Hunt and hit send. The irony of using Alexander's surname to investigate him wasn't lost on me.
While I waited for a response, I began planning. Alexander wouldn't be back until Sunday—that gave me three days. Three days to gather information, to prepare, to decide my next move.
I couldn't stay here. That much was clear. Whatever Alexander's endgame, whatever he'd done to my mother, to me, I couldn't continue playing the grateful amnesia victim. But I also couldn't just run blindly. I needed facts. Evidence. A plan that would protect Lila and give me leverage.
Julian's business card was still hidden in my jewelry box, along with the flash drive Celeste had given me. I'd studied both repeatedly over the past few days, weighing my options. Julian clearly had his own agenda—his hatred for Alexander was personal, visceral. That made him useful but not trustworthy.
No, this had to be my play. My investigation. My choice about what came next.
My laptop chimed with a new email. M had responded within an hour.
Ms. Hunt,
I can handle both requests. Express service available. Confirm if you want me to proceed with full background investigation.
-M
I transferred the money immediately from the emergency account I'd been building—small cash withdrawals over weeks, money Alexander would never miss. Then I opened a new browser tab and searched for flights to New York.
If I was going to find the truth about my mother, I needed to start where she'd ended. And if Alexander was monitoring my movements, a simple mother-daughter trip to New York would seem innocent enough. Especially since he thought I had no reason to be suspicious.
I booked two tickets for Saturday morning, then closed the laptop and went upstairs to find Lila.
She was in her room, having an elaborate tea party with her stuffed animals. When she saw me, her face lit up.
"Mommy! Do you want to have tea with Mr. Rabbit?"
I sat cross-legged on her carpet, accepting a tiny plastic cup. "Lila, how would you like to go on an adventure? Just you and me?"
Her eyes went wide. "What kind of adventure?"
"A trip to New York. We could see the big park, get hot chocolate, maybe visit some museums."
"Yes!" She bounced excitedly. "When can we go?"
"This weekend. But it'll be our special secret, okay? A surprise for Daddy when he gets home."
She nodded solemnly, already delighted by the conspiracy.
That evening, I played my role perfectly during Alexander's call. His questions came in that same careful pattern.
"How was Lila's mood today? Any tantrums or unusual behavior?"
"She was wonderful. We spent most of the afternoon in the garden."
"And you? Any headaches or memory flashes?"
"Nothing like that. Just tired."
"Have you been taking your vitamins? The prenatal ones Dr. Garrison prescribed?"
I paused slightly—I'd stopped taking those pills days ago, suspicious of everything Alexander provided. "Of course."
"Good. Your health is the most important thing right now."
The way he said it made my skin crawl. Not loving concern, but clinical monitoring.
"I love you," he said before hanging up, and I managed to say it back without choking on the words.
Friday brought M's first report:
Burial site located: Riverside Memorial Gardens, Charlottesville, Virginia. Josephine Vance, Section C, Plot 47.
Preliminary findings: Death certificate lists pancreatic cancer, but hospital records show concerns about morphine pump irregularities in final hours. Investigation opened and closed within 48 hours. No charges filed.
Full background on Alexander Hunt will take additional 24 hours. Extensive international holdings require deeper investigation.
-M
I read it three times, the words "morphine pump irregularities" burning into my brain. Someone had tampered with my mother's medication. Someone had killed her, or at least hastened her death.
And I had been... where? Already lost to the river? Already trapped in Alexander's carefully constructed prison?
The rage that filled me was cold, calculating. Not the hot fury that would make me careless, but the kind of anger that sharpened focus, that made plans deadly precise.
I spent Friday in careful preparation. Packed our bags with clothes that wouldn't be missed. Arranged for a car service instead of using Alexander's driver. Called the school to let them know Lila would be absent Monday for a family emergency.
Every detail mattered now. Every choice could mean the difference between escape and deeper entrapment.
Saturday morning arrived gray and cold. I dressed Lila in comfortable layers, packed snacks for the flight, and maintained the cheerful facade of a mother taking her daughter on a fun weekend trip.
The ride to Heathrow was quiet. Lila dozed against my shoulder while I stared out at London streets I might never see again, wondering what I was walking toward. A grave I needed to visit. A past I couldn't remember. A future I was finally going to choose for myself.
The flight to JFK was uneventful. Lila colored in her activity book, asked for snacks, dozed again. I stared out at clouds and ran through my plans. Visit my mother's grave first. Then decide whether to confront Alexander with what I'd learned, or simply disappear with Lila before he returned from Paris.
We landed just after two. I was pulling our carry-on from the overhead compartment when Lila suddenly squeezed my hand.
"Mommy, look! It's the sad uncle!"
My head snapped up. And there, leaning against a pillar near our gate, watching us with an intensity that made my breath catch, was Julian.
He straightened when our eyes met, then started walking toward us. Slow. Careful. Like approaching something wild that might bolt.
Lila waved at him, delighted by the coincidence. I felt my entire body go rigid.
He stopped a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, jaw tight.
"I know if I say this is a coincidence, you won't believe me," he said, his voice rough. "So I'll just be honest. I'm here to go back with you."