Chapter 2 - The Weight of Four Lost Years
The air inside the small, cramped apartment in West Philadelphia felt heavy with the scent of lavender and baby powder. It was a stark contrast to the sprawling penthouse I shared with Noelle on Rittenhouse Square. Rachel had reluctantly allowed me to follow her home, but only after I made it clear to a furious Noelle that our wedding plans were on an indefinite hold until I got answers. Noelle had left in a cloud of expensive perfume and parting threats, but I couldn't care less.
The triplets—Leo, Max, and Lily—had been given juice boxes and were currently occupied in the small living room, building a fort out of plastic blocks. I sat at a chipped wooden kitchen table, staring at the contents of the letter I had just pulled from the faded envelope.
It was written in Rachel's true, hurried handwriting. It was dated four years ago, exactly two weeks after she had vanished.
I read the words over and over, a toxic cocktail of rage and profound sorrow building in my gut. "I never saw this," I choked out, my voice thick with unshed tears. "My secretary at the time... she was hired by my mother. Every piece of mail, every phone call... it was filtered."
Rachel stood by the counter, pouring boiling water into a mug. Her hands were still shaking. "When you never called, and then your mother showed up at my apartment with a team of lawyers and a copy of a letter supposedly written by you stating that you were paying for an abortion and wanted a restraining order... I believed her, Evan. I thought you had abandoned me to protect your inheritance."
"I would have given it all up!" I shouted, slamming my fist on the table. In the living room, the clattering of blocks stopped. Little Lily peeked around the corner, her wide gray eyes filled with anxiety.
I immediately checked myself, taking a deep breath and softening my tone. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Everything is okay," I called out to her, forcing a smile. She nodded hesitantly and went back to her brothers.
Turning back to Rachel, I lowered my voice to a fierce whisper. "I loved you, Rachel. When you disappeared, I went to your apartment, but the landlord said you broke the lease and moved away with some guy. I drank myself into a stupor for six months. I only met Noelle because my mother practically orchestrated the introduction to get me out of my depression."
Rachel sat down across from me, looking at her worn hands. "My father's practice faced a sudden malpractice lawsuit out of nowhere right after I told your mother I was pregnant. The plaintiff was a shell company owned by Vance Enterprises. She told me the lawsuit would disappear if I disappeared. I had to protect my dad, Evan. He was sick. He passed away a year later, never knowing the truth."
I closed my eyes as the horror of my mother’s machinations unfolded. Eleanor Vance was a matriarch who ruled both Vance Enterprises and our family with an iron fist. She viewed my life as a chess board, and Rachel had been an unacceptable piece.
"So you raised three children alone," I whispered, looking at the exhaustion etched into Rachel's beautiful face.
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"It hasn't been easy," she admitted, a single tear escaping. "I work two jobs. Online editing at night, and a daycare assistant during the day so I can keep the kids with me. But they are my joy, Evan. I don't regret a single day with them."
"They're my joy too," I said, the realization settling deep into my bones. "Or they should have been. And I am going to make this right, Rachel. Starting right now."
