The Betrayed. Jana DeLeon
the one I’ve been using.”
She stood there, holding the documents, with both William and Alaina staring at her in shock. Finally, Alaina rose from her chair and walked the couple of steps to stand in front of her.
“Danae?” Alaina said, her voice wavering. “You were just a toddler... You had on a new dress that day—”
“Yellow with white roses,” Danae interrupted.
Alaina’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She threw her arms around Danae and squeezed her tightly. “I never thought... When I came here, I didn’t know what would happen.”
Danae struggled to maintain her composure. “I didn’t know, either.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first arrived?”
“We’re fine, Ms. Morgan,” William’s voice sounded behind them.
Danae released Alaina and glanced back in time to see Secretary Grim pull the door closed, her frown still fixed in place. Alaina smiled at her and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I...uh...” Danae struggled to find a way to explain. “I don’t really know why I came to Calais, or even to Louisiana. I mean, I guess I thought I could talk to our stepfather and maybe find out something—anything—about my past, maybe find you and Joelle. But I never got the chance and then he died.”
Danae sniffed and willed the tears that were building to stay in place. Now was not the time to go soft. “I don’t really remember. I don’t remember anything, and I kept thinking that it was important. That my life here mattered and I needed to know. I know it sounds silly...”
Alaina squeezed her arm. “No. It doesn’t sound silly at all. Not to me.”
Danae could tell by the way Alaina said it that she meant what she said. She wasn’t just being nice. She understood, as only the three sisters could possibly understand. A wave of relief passed over her, and the tug at her heart, the one she’d felt for Alaina the first time she saw her, grew stronger.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about how our stepfather lived,” Danae continued. “I never even saw him. Then he died and you turned up.”
Alaina smiled. “I felt a connection to you when we first met that I didn’t understand. I slipped so easily into conversation with you, which is rare. Maybe somewhere deep down, I knew.”
Danae sniffed and her eyes misted up a bit. “I wanted to say something when you arrived, but what would people think—my working here with an assumed name and all?”
She looked over at the attorney. “I swear I didn’t know about the inheritance when I came to Calais.”
The attorney waved a hand at the chairs in front of his desk, encouraging them to sit. “Please don’t trouble yourself with those kinds of thoughts, Ms. LeBeau. You couldn’t have been aware of the conditions of your mother’s will. Ophelia was a very private person, and your stepfather wasn’t about to tell anyone that he wasn’t really the wealthy man he seemed.”
As Danae slid into the chair next to Alaina, she felt some of the tension lessen in her shoulders and back. “But I still came here under false pretenses.”
“No,” Alaina said. “You came here looking for answers and didn’t want everyone to know that evil old man was your stepfather. I hardly think anyone will fault you for your feelings.”
The attorney nodded. “Your sister is correct. While some of the more dramatic of Calais’s residents may find some fun in theorizing as to your hidden identity, those who partake in logical thinking will not so much as raise an eyebrow at your choices. In fact, most would assume you wise.”
Danae smiled. “You’re very refreshing, Mr. Duhon.”
“Isn’t he the best?” Alaina beamed. “Until I met him, I had no idea attorneys could be competent, nice and have a personality. I’d thought I was the only one.”
“Please call me William,” he said, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Well, ladies, we have a lot to discuss, but I can cover the basics of the inheritance now and we can meet at a later date to discuss the rest.”
Danae nodded. “I know I have to live on the property for two weeks and that Sheriff Trahan will verify my residency every day. At least, that’s what the café gossip is.”
“This time, the café gossip is correct. That was one of the things Alaina and I were discussing, among everything else.”
“Why? Have the requirements changed?”
“No, but the storm last week did a lot of damage. Much of the house no longer has power, and the heating system has failed completely. Essentially, the house has gone from barely habitable to not habitable in a matter of days.”
Danae pulled at a loose thread on the chair cushion. “So what do we do?” The thought of living in that big, scary house with limited power wasn’t anywhere on her bucket list.
William frowned. “That is a fine question. I have already hired someone to begin the repairs, but the work could take a while to complete. I assume you’d like to get this over with.”
Danae nodded.
He tapped his pen on the desk then jumped up with more speed than Danae would have thought possible for a man his age. He pulled open a drawer in the filing cabinet behind him and removed a thick folder.
He slid back into his chair and flipped through the pages, scanning and frowning as he went. Danae looked over at Alaina, but she just shrugged. Finally, he closed the document and beamed across the desk at them.
“You’re renting the cabin off Bayou Glen Drive, right?” William asked.
“Yes,” Danae replied, “but I don’t see—”
“That cabin is part of the estate,” William said. “The inheritance documents don’t specify that you must occupy the main house, so I’m to assume that if you wanted to pitch a tent somewhere on estate acreage, that would also qualify. But in your case, you merely have to remain where you are for at least another two weeks, subject to monitoring and verification by our friend the sheriff.”
“Oh!” Danae exclaimed. “Well, that’s great.”
Alaina clapped her hands. “I told you William is the best.”
The ring of a cell phone interrupted their celebration. Alaina pulled her phone out of her purse and glanced at the display.
“I’m sorry,” Alaina said. “I have to take this.”
Alaina said very little but Danae could tell by the tone of her voice that something was wrong. Her sister frowned as she slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Is everything okay?” Danae asked.
“No. My mother—the one who raised me—fell yesterday and broke her leg. My father died a couple years back, and my stepbrother and stepsister both work full-time and can’t afford to take off. They know I resigned from the firm and asked if I can stay with her for a week or so until the home health nurse is available.”
Disappointment rolled over Danae and she tried to fight it down. Of course Alaina had to go help the woman who’d raised her, but she’d been hoping for long hours to catch up with her sister—to pick her memory for glimpses of their life before their mother died. Surely Alaina, the oldest of the sisters, had memories of their childhood.
Alaina put her hand on Danae’s arm. “I’m so sorry to have to leave right now.”
“Don’t be silly,” Danae said. “We have plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere, not even after my two weeks are up.”
Alaina leaned over and hugged her before rising from her chair. “I need to book a flight and pack a bag. You gave me your cell-phone number weeks ago, so I’ll call you as soon as I get