Chapter 3 - THE GIRL WHO COLLAPSED ALONE
The next morning, Stella said nothing.
Neither did her mother.
But something had changed between them.
At breakfast, Mrs. Adamu watched her daughter.
Stella watched Clara.
And Clara watched everyone.
The Adamu home had become a house full of secrets.
Clara was ordered back to work despite the doctor's instructions.
She swept.
Washed dishes.
Cleaned bathrooms.
Prepared lunch.
Each time she slowed down, Mrs. Adamu found another task.
But Clara no longer cried in front of her.
Something stronger than fear had begun growing inside her.
Questions.
That evening, Mr. Adamu found Clara washing clothes.
"Why aren't you resting?"
"Your wife asked me to wash these."
He looked toward the house.
"I told her—"
"It's okay."
"No, it isn't."
Clara stopped washing.
For a moment she considered showing him the letter.
Then she remembered what her father had written.
He will listen to his wife before he listens to a dead man.
She remained silent.
"Uncle?"
"Yes?"
"Did my father leave anything for me?"
Mr. Adamu froze.
The reaction lasted less than a second.
But Clara saw it.
"Why are you asking?"
"Just wondering."
"Your father's medical expenses consumed almost everything."
"Almost?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"There wasn't much."
Clara nodded.
It was a lie.
Now she knew.
Later that night, Stella entered Clara's room.
"I saw Mom searching your room."
Clara looked at her sharply.
"When?"
"Last night."
"Did she find anything?"
"I don't think so."
Clara locked the door.
Then she pulled the envelope from inside the lining of her travel bag.
She handed Stella the letter.
"Read."
Stella did.
Her face changed with every paragraph.
When she finished, she whispered, "My mom knew?"
"Apparently."
"What happened August fourteenth?"
"I don't know."
Stella looked terrified.
"We have to ask Dad."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I asked him whether my father left me anything."
"And?"
"He lied."
Stella sat down.
For the first time in her life, the world inside her home no longer made sense.
Her father, whom she trusted.
Her mother, whom she obeyed.
Both were hiding something from Clara.
Then Stella noticed another folded paper inside the envelope.
"What's this?"
Clara frowned.
"I didn't see that."
They unfolded it.
It wasn't a letter.
It was a receipt from a law firm.
Beneath the firm's name was an appointment date.
August 14.
And beside it were three words:
TRANSFER OF GUARDIANSHIP ASSETS.
Stella looked up.
"Clara..."
Before she could finish, someone knocked hard on the door.
Both girls jumped.
"Open this door!"
Mrs. Adamu.
Clara grabbed the documents.
"Where?"
Stella pointed toward herself.
"Give them to me."
"What?"
"She won't search me."
Clara hesitated.
"Do it!"
Clara handed Stella the papers.
Stella folded them and slid them beneath her shirt.
Clara opened the door.
Mrs. Adamu stared at them.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was checking on her," Stella said.
"I've told you to stay away from her."
"She's my cousin."
Mrs. Adamu slapped the doorframe.
"Go to your room."
Stella walked past her.
Mrs. Adamu entered.
"Clara."
"Yes?"
"I've noticed something."
Clara remained quiet.
"You've become bold."
"I haven't."
"Good."
Mrs. Adamu moved closer.
"Because girls who depend on other people's mercy should be very careful about becoming bold."
Clara met her eyes.
For once, she didn't look away.
"I understand."
Mrs. Adamu left.
The following afternoon, Clara went to the law firm listed on the receipt.
She told Mrs. Adamu she was going to the pharmacy.
Stella gave her transportation money.
The receptionist searched the system.
"Your father's name?"
Clara told her.
The woman typed.
Then stopped.
"One moment."
She disappeared into another office.
A gray-haired attorney emerged.
"Clara?"
"Yes."
The man stared at her as though he had seen a ghost.
"My name is Daniel Cole."
He invited her inside.
"I knew your father."
Clara sat down.
"He came here the day before he became seriously ill."
"What did he want?"
Mr. Cole folded his hands.
"He was trying to protect you."
Clara's heartbeat quickened.
"From whom?"
The attorney hesitated.
"Before I answer that, I need to know something."
"What?"
"Did your uncle ever tell you that your father placed property and money into a trust for you?"
"No."
The attorney's expression hardened.
"Then we have a serious problem."
Clara felt cold.
"How serious?"
"Your father left assets worth far more than you appear to realize."
"How much?"
Mr. Cole opened a file.
But before he could answer, his assistant rushed into the office.
"Mr. Cole?"
"What?"
"There's a woman at reception asking whether Clara is here."
Clara's stomach dropped.
"Who?"
The assistant looked at her.
"She says she's your aunt."
May you like
Mrs. Adamu had followed her.
And Clara suddenly understood that whatever her father had left behind was important enough for Mrs. Adamu to chase a sick pregnant girl across town to stop her from learning about it.
