“A dormant trust account connected to Natalie’s Social Security number was flagged when Diane attempted to use information attached to it.”
“Trust?” I repeated.
“I don’t have a trust.”
“You do.”
My mother sat down.
For the first time since entering the room, she looked old.
Thomas handed Grant the documents.
“The account was created thirty-two years ago by Eleanor and Michael Vale.”
I stared at him.
His surname.
Vale.
Thomas Vale.
My heart began racing again.
“Who are they?”
Thomas’s composure finally cracked.
“My sister and her husband.”
The room seemed to shift beneath me.
I studied his face.
Really studied it.
The gray-blue eyes.
The narrow chin.
The slight curve of his nose.
Features I had seen in my own reflection every morning.
“No,” I whispered.
Thomas swallowed.
“My sister Eleanor had a daughter.”
Diane stood abruptly.
“Enough.”
The officer blocked her path.
Thomas kept going.
