Chapter 12 - The Ghost of the PastMy hands trembled as I reached through the jagged opening and pulled out the topmost journal. The cover was embossed with a familiar monogram: E.C.—Eleanor Caldwell, my mother.
I sat down at the library desk, turned on the reading lamp, and began to read her handwritten words. The entries detailed a life far more complex and dangerous than the tragic fairy tale old Thomas had described.
"January 14, 2003: Arthur is forcing me into an arranged marriage with the corporate rival’s son to secure the merger. But I am already pregnant with a man they deem 'unsuitable.' If my father finds out about my baby, he will take the child away the moment it’s born. I have to run. I have to hide my daughter where no Caldwell can ever touch her..."
Tears stung my eyes. My mother hadn't simply vanished in a fire. She had staged her own disappearance to protect me from the ruthless tyranny of the Caldwell family empire—the very empire I now legally owned.
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As I turned the final page, a folded photograph slipped out and fluttered to the mahogany floor. I picked it up. It was a picture of my mother holding me as a newborn baby, standing next to a young, handsome man whose face I didn't recognize.
On the back of the photograph, three words were written in desperate ink: He is still looking.
