Chapter 18: The Visit to Gran

*J for Julianne.*

Mia didn't say it. She didn't have to. The letter on the baby blanket wasn't a monogram. It was a signature. A claim of ownership stitched in pink silk.

Mia touched the photo again. "Why?" she whispered. "Why would she give me away?"

"I don't know," Elena lied. She knew about the debt. She knew about Vargas. But telling Mia that her father had sold her to settle a gambling debt and her mother had brokered the deal... that was a nuclear option Elena wasn't ready to detonate. Not yet.

"We need to find out," Elena said. "But we can't do it here. Mark is watching the house. Julianne is tracking the money."

"Gran," Mia said suddenly.

"What?"

"Gran knows everything. She always talks about the 'bad year' when she gets confused. She thinks I'm Julianne half the time. If we go to her... maybe she'll tell me."

Elena looked at the clock. It was late. Visiting hours were over. But Grandmother Rose was in the high-security dementia wing of the "Vance Family Benefactor" facility. A facility Julianne paid for.

"If we go there," Elena said, "Julianne will know. She gets alerts when anyone visits."

Mia stood up. Her face was set in a hard, unfamiliar expression. "Let her know. I want her to know."

They drove in silence. The facility was a fortress of glass and stone, nestled in the woods like a secret. Elena used her power of attorney card—the one Mark had forgotten to revoke in his panic—to bypass the night desk.

The memory care wing smelled of lavender and antiseptic. Gran's room was at the end of the hall. The door was open.

Rose Vance was sitting in her wheelchair by the window, staring at the dark reflection of the room. She was frail, her skin like parchment, but her eyes were sharp.

"Julianne?" she rasped when she saw Mia.

Mia froze. Then she stepped forward, into the light. "Yes, Gran. It's me."

"You came back." Rose reached out a trembling hand. "I told you not to come back. He'll find you."

"Who will find me?" Mia knelt beside the chair. "Who are you afraid of?"

"The man in the suit. The one who bought the debt." Rose gripped Mia's hand with surprising strength. "You shouldn't have kept it, Julie. You promised him. You promised you wouldn't keep a piece of him."

Elena stepped closer. "Who, Rose? Who is the man?"

Rose looked at Elena, her eyes clouding with confusion. " The nurse? Are you the nurse?"

"No. I'm Elena. Mark's wife."

"Mark doesn't have a wife," Rose snapped. "Mark has a debt. That's all he ever has."

She turned back to Mia. "You have to hide the baby, Julie. That's what you said. 'I'll hide her in plain sight. I'll make her Mark's. He won't look for Mark's daughter. He thinks Mark is weak.'"

Mia flinched.

"Did you pay him?" Mia asked, her voice trembling. "Did you pay the man to go away?"

Rose laughed. It was a dry, rattling sound. "Pay him? You can't pay a man like that. You can only rent his patience."

She leaned in, pulling Mia close.

"We paid him the first installment," Rose whispered. "In Zurich. But he's back, isn't he? I saw the car. The black car."

Elena felt a chill run down her spine. The black sedan outside their house.

"Gran," Mia said. "What is his name?"

Rose's eyes widened. She looked past Mia, toward the door. Terror, pure and lucid, flooded her face.

"Vargas," she hissed. "Don't say it loud. He hears everything."

Elena spun around. The hallway was empty.

But Rose wasn't looking at the hall. She was looking at the window. At the reflection of the parking lot below.

Elena moved to the glass.

Down in the lot, under the single streetlamp, was a black sedan. The engine was running.

And leaning against the hood, smoking a cigarette, was a man. He wasn't young anymore. His hair was silver. But the posture was the same as the man in the photograph.

Dominant. Watchful.

He looked up. He looked straight at the window.

And he smiled.