Chapter 26: The Mother's Secret

Scarlett's mother, Isabella Whitmore, had died when Scarlett was twelve.

The official story was simple: a sudden fall from the balcony during a storm, tragic and accidental. Scarlett remembered rain on the windows, police lights in the driveway, Evelyn standing in the hallway with wet hair and a pale face.

Until Richard's confession, Scarlett had never questioned that memory.

Alexander reopened the file within an hour.

By morning, Luca found the first inconsistency. The balcony door had been locked from the inside, but Isabella's fingerprints were not on the lock. The housekeeper who discovered the body left Whitmore service the next week and received a large settlement. The police detective retired early within the year.

Scarlett listened without speaking.

'Evelyn was not married to my father then,' she said finally.

Alexander stood across from her. 'No. She was his mistress.'

The word struck like a blade.

Scarlett looked at the photograph of her mother on the desk. Isabella had been elegant and warm, with dark eyes that matched Scarlett's. She had smelled of roses and vanilla. She had told Scarlett that kindness was not weakness, but it needed boundaries.

Evelyn had entered their lives as a friend.

A friend.

Scarlett felt sick.

'If Evelyn killed my mother—'

'We prove it,' Alexander said.

'And if my father covered it up?'

Alexander did not answer.

He did not need to.

That afternoon, Grace tracked the former housekeeper to a small town in Vermont. Her name was Clara Evans. She had refused every interview for fourteen years.

Scarlett insisted on going.

The drive was long and silent. When they reached Clara's cottage, the older woman opened the door, saw Scarlett, and began to cry.

'You have your mother's eyes,' Clara whispered.

Scarlett's throat tightened. 'Then tell me what they saw that night.'

Clara stepped aside.

'Come in, Miss Whitmore. It is time someone heard the truth.'