"Twenty-four hours," I whispered, watching Bella and Madeline disappear into their black sedan. My legs felt like water.
Daniel caught my arm as I swayed. "We need to get out of here."
"Did you hear what she said? She thinks I tried to murder her."
"She thinks a lot of things. Most of them planted by Madeline Newton." He guided me toward his car. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
"What can we do? She has footage that makes me look guilty. She has legal documents. She has Evans wrapped around her finger."
"She has lies, Vivian. Very convincing lies, but lies nonetheless."
I slumped into the passenger seat. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know you. Because I was there that day, remember? I saw how devastated you were when they took Bella away in that ambulance."
"You were twelve, "
"So were you. Twelve-year-olds don't fake that kind of grief." He started the engine. "We need to find someone who can corroborate your version of events."
"Everyone who was there that day has either disappeared or been paid off."
"Not everyone." Daniel pulled out his phone, scrolling through his notes. "Marcus Wells. Remember him?"
The name stirred something in my memory. "The groundskeeper?"
"He worked for your family for fifteen years. Left abruptly three days after Bella's drowning."
"Left or was fired?"
"That's what we're going to find out."
An hour later, we pulled up to a modest apartment complex in Queens. Daniel had tracked Marcus through employment records and social security databases, apparently one of the perks of being a private investigator.
"Third floor, apartment 3B," Daniel said, checking his notes. "Are you ready for this?"
"No. But let's do it anyway."
The building smelled like industrial cleaner and old cigarettes. Our footsteps echoed in the narrow stairwell as we climbed to the third floor.
Daniel knocked on 3B. "Mr. Wells? My name is Daniel Pierce. I'm a private investigator looking into the Grants family incident from ten years ago."
Silence.
"Mr. Wells, I have Vivian Grants with me. She'd like to ask you a few questions."
A chain rattled, then the door opened a crack. A weathered face peered out, eyes widening when they saw me.
"Jesus Christ. You look just like your mother."
"Mr. Wells?" I stepped forward. "Could we come in? Just for a few minutes?"
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed and opened the door wider. "I wondered when someone would come asking questions."
The apartment was small but clean, filled with the kind of furniture that came from discount stores but was well-maintained. Marcus Wells looked older than I remembered, grayer, thinner, with lines around his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?"
"We're fine, thank you." I sat on the edge of his couch. "Mr. Wells, I need to ask you about the day my sister drowned."
His face went pale. "I don't know anything about that."
"Please. I know you saw something. The police report mentions you as a witness, but then your statement disappeared from the file."
"I didn't give any statement."
"Why not?"
Marcus looked between Daniel and me, then walked to his window, staring out at the street below.
"Because they told me not to."
"Who told you not to?"
"Your father. And that woman, Newton's mother."
My heart skipped. "Madeline Newton was there that day?"
"Not at first. She came later, after the ambulance left. Her and your father, they had words."
"What kind of words?"
Marcus turned back to us. "The kind that end with envelopes full of cash and threats about what happens to people who talk too much."
"They paid you to stay quiet."
"They paid me to disappear. New identity, new city, new life. All I had to do was forget what I saw."
"But you didn't forget."
"No, Miss Grants. I didn't forget."
Daniel leaned forward. "What did you see, Mr. Wells?"
Marcus sat down heavily in his recliner. "I was working in the garden that day. Thursday afternoon, like always. Most of the staff was off, but I liked the quiet. Could get more done without all the chatter."
"You were near the pool?"
"Close enough. I heard the screaming first, that was you, Miss Grants. Screaming for help like the world was ending."
"And then?"
"I came running. Saw you in the pool, both of you. You were trying to hold onto your sister, but she was panicking, pulling you both down."
"That's what I remember."
"Then you both went under. I thought you were both going to drown."
"But we didn't."
"You didn't. You came up first, gasping, swimming toward the shallow end. But your sister..." He paused.
"What about Bella?"
"She was floating. Face down. Not moving."
My stomach clenched. "She was dead?"
"I thought she was. That lifeguard, Johnson, I think his name was, he dove in after her. Pulled her out, started CPR."
"And?"
"And that's when I saw the car."
Daniel and I exchanged glances. "The black car?"
"Big sedan. Tinted windows. It pulled up to the service gate while Johnson was working on your sister."
"Did you see who got out?"
"Two men in suits. They went straight to Johnson, had a quick conversation. Then one of them took over the CPR."
"Took over?"
"Professional-like. Like he knew what he was doing. And that's when things got strange."
"Strange how?"
Marcus rubbed his face with weathered hands. "Your sister started breathing."
"That's good, "
"No, Miss Grants. You don't understand. She started breathing, but they kept working on her. Kept saying she wasn't responding. Even when I could see her moving."
The room felt like it was spinning. "She was alive?"
"Very much alive. Conscious, even. I saw her eyes open. Saw her try to sit up."
"But the EMTs said, "
"The EMTs weren't the first ones there. Those men in suits, they were there for almost ten minutes before the ambulance arrived."
"Ten minutes?"
"Long enough to do whatever they needed to do."
Daniel was taking notes frantically. "What exactly did you see them do?"
"I saw one of them give her an injection. Something that made her go limp again. Then they wrapped her in a blanket, put her on a stretcher."
"They drugged her?"
"Sedated her, more likely. Made it look like she was unconscious when the real EMTs showed up."
"So the EMTs never actually examined her?"
"They took the word of the men who were already there. Professional courtesy, I guess."
I felt sick. "She was alive the whole time."
"Very much alive. And very scared."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Marcus's face hardened. "Because twenty minutes after the ambulance left, your father and that Newton woman showed up at my quarters. They told me I hadn't seen anything unusual. That if anyone asked, I was to say I'd been working in the far garden all afternoon."
"And you agreed?"
"They offered me fifty thousand dollars to relocate and start fresh somewhere else. Said it would be healthier for everyone involved."
"They threatened you."
"They didn't have to. I knew what happened to people who crossed families like yours."
"What families like mine?"
"Rich families with secrets. Powerful families with problems they need to disappear."
Daniel looked up from his notes. "Did you see where they took Bella?"
"The ambulance went toward the hospital. But the black car followed it."
"The same car with the men in suits?"
"Yes. They stayed close behind the ambulance the whole way down the drive."
"So they were coordinating."
"More than coordinating. They were in control."
I stood up abruptly, pacing to the window. "This proves it. This proves Bella didn't drown."
"It proves more than that," Daniel said grimly. "It proves this was a planned operation."
"But planned by who? My father? Madeline?"
Marcus cleared his throat. "There's something else."
We both turned to look at him.
"The men in suits? I'd seen them before."
"Where?"
"At the house. Meeting with your father in his study. This was maybe a week before the drowning."
"They were planning this."
"Seemed like it to me."
"Did you recognize them? Did they work for my father?"
Marcus shook his head. "No, Miss Grants. They didn't work for your father."
"Then who did they work for?"
"I only caught part of their conversation, but I heard enough."
"What did you hear?"
"They worked for the people your father owed money to. They were there to discuss collection methods."
"Collection methods?"
"Different ways to get your father to pay what he owed. They mentioned you and your sister specifically."
My blood ran cold. "As collateral."
"As leverage. But they were debating which one of you would be more effective."
"More effective for what?"
"For making your father do what they wanted." Marcus's face was grim. "They were trying to decide which daughter to take."
Daniel and I stared at each other in horror.
"Take for what?"
"Insurance. To make sure your father paid up. But there was disagreement about the approach."
"What kind of disagreement?"
"Some wanted to take you both. Others thought one would be sufficient. And then there was talk about making it look like an accident."
"They were planning to kidnap us."
"Or kill one of you to motivate the other." Marcus stood up, walking to his kitchen. "You want to know the truth, Miss Grants? Your sister was never supposed to survive that day."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the plan was for her to drown. Really drown. And for you to watch it happen."
"That's what Bella said, "
"But something went wrong. Instead of letting her die, someone decided to take her instead."
"Who? Who made that decision?"
Marcus returned with a glass of water, his hands shaking slightly. "That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?"
"You must have some idea."
"I have suspicions. But suspicions aren't facts."
"Tell us your suspicions."
Marcus took a long drink of water, then set the glass down carefully.
"I think someone decided your sister was worth more alive than dead. Someone who could use her as a long-term asset rather than a short-term message."
"Madeline Newton."
"That would be my guess. She had the resources, the connections, and the motivation."
"What motivation?"
"Control. Over your father, over Evans, over the whole situation." Marcus looked directly at me. "And over you."
"How does taking Bella give her control over me?"
"Because as long as you thought you'd killed your sister, you'd do anything to atone for it. Including staying with her son, no matter how badly he treated you."
The pieces were clicking into place, forming a picture so twisted it made me nauseous.
"She's been controlling me for ten years."
"She's been controlling everyone for ten years. Your father, Evans, you, even Bella."
"But now Bella's back."
"Now Bella's back, and she thinks she's in control. But I wonder..."
"Wonder what?"
Marcus looked out his window again, and I followed his gaze. A black sedan was parked across the street.
"I wonder if anyone is really in control anymore."