I was stunned, then furious. He was taking a page out of my book. Maya was perfectly sane. Ethan just wanted her to be crazy. A fabricated diagnosis was easy to obtain. With no family to intervene, Ethan, as her legal guardian, could control every aspect of her life, strip her of her basic rights. He probably hoped to gain positive PR for “standing by his mentally ill wife.”
If that happened, I’d lose all access to Maya.
“That… leech,” I spat.
“What do we do?” Sylvia sounded worried. “Should my family… intervene… directly?”
“The Hughes family is already putting pressure
on him financially,” I said. “We need to find
something.”
“Find what?”
“I don’t believe Maya’s grandmother left her
completely defenseless,” I said, “Even if she
was… influenced… she probably had moments
of clarity, like us.”
Sylvia paused, “I’ll check the Hughes‘ company
records… their old staff…”
If Maya’s grandmother had left something for
her, where would it be? I thought for a moment.
“I need to go to her grandmother’s
mausoleum.”
“Okay,”
The rain hadn’t stopped. The sky was a dreary
gray, I knew the general location of the
く
cemetery but not the exact plot. I searched row
by row, until I encountered a woman sweeping
the grounds.
“Excuse me,” she said, looking up. She seemed
to be the caretaker. “Who are you looking for?”
“Eleanor Hughes.”
The woman’s eyes widened in recognition. She
studied me carefully. “Who are you? Why are
you here? It’s not even Memorial Day.”
“I’m a friend of her granddaughter’s.” I
shouldn’t have revealed so much to a stranger,
but I found myself handing her my ID. “My name
is Vivian Sterling. I’m here to…” What excuse
could I give?
I paused. “I’m here to help Maya.” It was a
cryptic statement.
The woman fell silent. She pulled out a piece of
100
<
–
paper, put down her broom, and put on a pair of reading glasses, meticulously scanning the densely written lines. I glimpsed the top line Ethan Pierce. Below it, a list of Pierce family members. I waited patiently. After what seemed like an eternity, she sighed in relief. “Not here. Knew I had a good memory.” She turned to
leave, a single sentence hanging in the air.
“Follow me.”
She led me to the cemetery office, opened a
drawer, and retrieved a small safe. “This is what
you want,” she said, her voice relieved. “Waited
years to give this away.”
I held the lightweight safe. “Mrs. Hughes
entrusted this to you?”
“Yes. She was… an unusual woman. Bought her
own plot in advance.” The woman’s voice was
wistful. “But the strongest person I’ve ever met.
I owed her a favor. She asked me to keep this
safe, to show this list to anyone who came
<
looking. If anyone on this list came, I was to
pretend I knew nothing.”
The last name on the list was Eleanor Hughes.
She’d even included herself as a precaution.
“What if Maya came?”
“If she came alone, I was to give it to her. But
every year… she always had someone with
her.” Company? Or surveillance? A chilling
thought.
“I understand,” I said, looking down at the safe.
“I don’t know the combination. Only the rightful
owner can open it.”
I nodded, my fingers moving almost
instinctively. When had Eleanor Hughes realized
something was wrong? Maya’s parents‘ deaths.
had been… suspicious. Perhaps it was
punishment. The closest person to Maya had
12:50
been targeted. Physical pain was nothing compared to the agony of losing your children
I entered the date of their deaths.
The safe clicked open
“You opened it. I knew I’d walled for the right
person.” The woman’s eyes lit up. “She left
some money with me, too. But I can only give it to Maya herself.”
I looked at the contents of the safe – a thick stack of documents, a letter, and a small note. The note, written in elegant script, contained a single line: “For years of service, my gratitude. This is for you. Don’t stay. Your future is bright. Good luck.” There was no signature, but I knew who it was for. I handed it to the caretaker and
closed the safe.
She stood there, stunned, then began to sob. I
didn’t look back.
