I touched it with shaking fingers.
The living room had been overturned. Cushions slashed. Drawers emptied. Books scattered. A mug lay shattered near the fireplace, tea dried in a brown stain beside it.
And on the floor near the kitchen—
Blood.
Not much.
Enough.
My body went numb.
“Holt,” one of the security men called from the hallway.
We found the red box beneath a loose floorboard in Claire’s bedroom.
It was metal, scratched, and locked.
The key Lucas had given me fit perfectly.
Inside were documents, photographs, a flash drive, and a stack of letters addressed to me but never sent.
My name appeared again and again in Claire’s handwriting.
Alex, today they took their first steps.
Alex, Lucas has your stubborn chin.
Alex, Noah asks why the moon follows our car.
Alex, I almost called you tonight.
I couldn’t read more.
Not there.
Not while her blood stained the room below.
Holt inserted the flash drive into a secure tablet.
Files appeared.
Medical records.
Bank transfers.
Surveillance photos.
Then a video.
Claire’s face filled the screen.
She looked older than I remembered. More tired. Still beautiful. Still Claire.
“Alex,” she said on the video, voice trembling, “if you’re watching this, the Crown has found us.”
My hand tightened around the tablet.
“They don’t only want the boys. They want what your father hid. Before Richard died, he placed controlling access to several private accounts into a genetic trust. Only a direct Sterling heir can unlock it. Not you alone. Not the board. Your children.”
Holt cursed under his breath.
Claire continued.
“I thought I could keep them safe by staying invisible. I was wrong. Hargrove found me first, but he wasn’t the one I feared. He said he wanted to help. I didn’t believe him until he proved what Richard had done to you.”
She swallowed.
“There is someone inside Sterling Tower still working for the Crown. Someone close enough to watch your schedule, your doctors, your home, your grief. Someone you trust.”
The video flickered.
A noise sounded behind her.
Claire turned, fear flashing across her face.
Then she leaned toward the camera.
“One more thing. The boys know about your scar and birthmark because I told them stories about you every night. I made sure they knew their father was real.”