Chapter 5: The Daughter Who Disappeared
For three seconds, my father didn't speak.
He stood in the middle of the university corridor with the phone pressed to his ear, surrounded by students celebrating the biggest day of their lives.
Then he asked, "What do you mean, gone?""
Victoria was crying.
"Her room is empty. Her car is gone. She hasn't answered any of my calls.""
"Did she leave a note?""
"No.""
"Have you called her friends?""
"Brooke says she hasn't seen her since last night. Madison won't answer me.""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Victoria, when did you last see her?""
"At home. Before midnight.""
"And you didn't think to call me?""
"I thought she was with you!""
His expression changed.
"Why would she be with me?""
"I don't know, Daniel! I thought she'd gone back to apologize!""
Dad closed his eyes again.
"I told you to take her somewhere else for the night. I didn't tell you to let her disappear.""
Victoria's voice sharpened.
"Don't you dare blame me for this. You threatened to throw her out!""
"I asked you to leave because she had destroyed Emily's dress and there was evidence of possible fraud.""
"She's twenty-one!""
"And old enough to understand consequences.""
"She's my daughter!""
Dad looked at me.
For the first time, I saw how exhausted he was.
"I know," he said quietly.
"That's why I'm asking you to tell me everything you know.""
Victoria went silent.
Then she whispered, "I found something in her room.""
Dad straightened.
"What?""
"A folder. It's full of printed emails and photographs.""
"Photographs of what?""
"I don't know. I haven't opened everything.""
"Victoria.""
Her voice trembled.
"One of the photographs is of Emily.""
I felt cold all over.
Dad ended the call after telling Victoria not to touch anything else in Samantha's room.
Then he turned toward me.
"We need to go home.""
"What about the university?""
"I'll call Dean Harris from the car. They're going to have to wait.""
I looked toward the auditorium across campus.
Students were already lining up in their graduation gowns. Families crowded around the entrance, holding flowers and balloons.
A group of girls passed us, one of them laughing as her father tried to straighten her cap.
I had imagined this day for four years.
Now I was leaving campus without knowing whether I would be allowed to cross the stage.
"Emily," Dad said gently.
I forced myself to look at him.
"We'll find out what happened.""
I nodded, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Samantha's disappearance was connected to something much bigger than a ruined dress or a scholarship complaint.
The messages had been too specific.
Someone knew about Margaret's envelope.
Someone had photographed her outside the studio.
And someone wanted me to ask what my mother had left behind.
I touched the strap of my bag, where the letter rested against my side.
For the first time, I wondered whether the secret my mother had kept was the reason Samantha had targeted me.
When we arrived home, Victoria was pacing in the living room.
Her mascara had run down both cheeks. A half-packed suitcase sat beside the sofa, and several of Samantha's shopping bags were scattered across the floor.
She rushed toward Dad.
"Did you find her?""
"No.""
"Did you call the police?""
"Not yet. She's an adult, and we don't know whether she's in danger.""
Victoria threw up her hands.
"So we just sit here?""
"No. We start by figuring out what she took and where she might have gone.""
He looked toward the staircase.
"Show me the folder.""
Victoria hesitated.
Then she led us upstairs.
Samantha's bedroom looked as if a storm had passed through it. Drawers stood open. Clothes covered the bed, and a jewelry box had been emptied onto the carpet.
Dad surveyed the room.
"Did you search her belongings?""
"I was looking for her passport.""
"Why?""
"Because she sometimes travels when she's upset.""
I stared at the open wardrobe.
"She packed.""
Victoria turned toward me.
"What?""
"Her suitcase is missing, but the clothes are still everywhere. She packed some things and left the rest.""
Dad moved toward the desk.
A black laptop sat open beside a stack of magazines.
He didn't touch it.
Instead, he examined the papers scattered around it.
One document had my name written across the top.
I stepped closer.
It was a printed copy of my scholarship application.
Someone had highlighted my financial information in yellow.
Beside the document was a handwritten note.
If the scholarship disappears, she has nothing.
My stomach twisted.
Dad read the sentence twice.
Victoria covered her mouth.
"Oh, my God.""
I looked at her.
"Did you know about this?""
"No!""
"Did you know Samantha was trying to access my account?""
"Absolutely not!""
Her answer came too quickly, too loudly.
Dad turned toward her.
"Victoria, I need the truth. Not the answer you think will make this easier.""
She stared at the floor.
"I knew Samantha was angry about the scholarship.""
I felt as though someone had punched me.
"What does that mean?""
Victoria pressed a hand to her chest.
"She told me that she thought your scholarship was unfair.""
"Why?""
"She said you didn't need it because your father could pay for your education.""
I stared at her.
"That's not how scholarships work.""
"I know that now.""
"You knew I worked through college.""
"I know.""
"You watched me come home exhausted after night shifts.""
Tears slipped down Victoria's cheeks.
"I know, Emily.""
"Then why didn't you tell her she was wrong?""
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Dad picked up the note carefully.
"Did Samantha tell you she intended to interfere with Emily's scholarship?""
Victoria shook her head.
"She said she wanted to prove that the university had made a mistake. She thought you were receiving special treatment.""
"Did you help her?""
"No!""
Her voice echoed through the room.
Then she looked at the laptop.
"I didn't touch her computer, but I did see her talking to someone online.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"Who?""
"I don't know. She called him Alex.""
"Alex what?""
"I don't know.""
I moved closer.
"What did she say to him?""
Victoria swallowed.
"She said he could get the documents he needed. She said she would pay him when the money came through.""
Dad went pale.
"What money?""
Victoria looked at me.
"I think she was talking about your scholarship refund.""
The room seemed to tilt.
Dad gripped the edge of the desk.
"Why didn't you tell me this last night?""
"Because I didn't understand what she was doing!""
"You understood enough to know it was wrong.""
Victoria began to cry harder.
"I thought she was bluffing. I thought she was just angry.""
I looked at the papers again.
There were more than a dozen.
Some contained screenshots of my public social media profiles. Others showed photographs of me outside the library, walking to class, or sitting in the student union.
One photograph had been taken through the front window of our house.
It showed me at the kitchen table, working on my laptop.
I stared at it.
"Who took these?""
Nobody answered.
I lifted another sheet.
It was a handwritten list of dates.
My scholarship renewal.
My final exams.
The date of my graduation.
And beneath those dates, one sentence.
Make sure she doesn't get to celebrate.
I dropped the paper.
Dad caught my arm.
"Emily?""
I shook my head.
"She was watching me.""
The realization was worse than the accusation.
Samantha hadn't simply acted on impulse the night before graduation. She had been collecting information about me, tracking my schedule, and planning ways to interfere with my future.
The dress had been only one part of it.
My phone buzzed.
Margaret.
Are you all right? Someone called my studio pretending to be from the university. They asked about your mother's designs and the envelope I gave you.
I showed Dad.
He read the message.
Then he looked at Victoria.
"Who is Alex?""
"I told you, I don't know!""
Dad took out his phone.
"I'm calling the police.""
Victoria grabbed his wrist.
"Daniel, wait.""
He stared at her.
"What now?""
She looked at me.
Her face was white.
"There is something else you should know.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What?""
Victoria pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket.
"I found this in Samantha's handbag last night. I didn't tell you because I thought it was just another one of her arguments.""
She handed it to Dad.
It was a photocopy of a document bearing my mother's name.
Elena Carter.
Beneath it was the logo of a private investment company I had never heard of.
Dad stared at the page.
Then he sat down heavily on the edge of Samantha's bed.
I had never seen him look so shaken.
"Where did she get this?"" he whispered.
Victoria wiped her cheeks.
"I don't know.""
Dad turned the paper over.
On the back, in Samantha's handwriting, were four words.
Find the original before Emily.
I looked at him.
"Dad, what is this?""
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he studied the document as if it had brought him face-to-face with a memory he'd spent years trying to forget.
Finally, he looked up.
"Your mother had a business account before she died.""
"She was a designer. Of course she had a business account.""
"No, Emily. This was different.""
He stood and walked toward the window.
"After your mother became ill, she asked me to keep certain financial records private. She said they were connected to a project she had been developing with Margaret.""
"What kind of project?""
"I never knew all the details. She told me the money was meant for your future.""
I stared at the photocopy.
"How much money?""
Dad swallowed.
"I don't know exactly.""
"How can you not know?""
"Because the account was managed through a separate company. Elena said she wanted everything handled independently, and I respected her wishes.""
"Did you know Samantha was looking for it?""
"No.""
His answer was immediate.
Then his expression changed.
"Unless...""
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He scrolled through his contacts, found a number, and called.
The person answered after two rings.
"Daniel Carter," Dad said.
"It's been a long time.""
He listened.
"Yes. I need information about Elena's account.""
Another pause.
"No, this isn't a routine inquiry. Someone has been looking for the original documents.""
Dad's eyes moved toward me.
"And I believe my stepdaughter may have found a copy.""
He listened again.
Then he went completely silent.
I watched his fingers tighten around the phone.
Finally, he asked, "How much?""
The answer was so quiet that I couldn't hear it.
But I saw Dad's face change.
He looked at the document again.
Then he whispered, "That can't be right.""
He ended the call without saying goodbye.
I stepped toward him.
"Dad?""
He looked at me as though he was seeing me for the first time.
"Emily, your mother may have left you something worth millions of dollars.""
My knees weakened.
"What?""
"Her company developed a design patent shortly before she died. The investment company licensed the technology, and the royalties have been accumulating for years.""
I stared at him.
"My mother designed dresses.""
"She did much more than that.""
He looked down at the photocopy.
"And if this document is genuine, Samantha may have been trying to get her hands on the account.""
Before I could respond, the front doorbell rang.
Dad hurried downstairs.
I followed him.
A uniformed police officer stood on the porch, holding a small evidence bag.
"Mr. Carter?""
"Yes.""
The officer glanced at his notes.
"We received a report concerning a missing adult, but we also need to speak with your family about a possible financial fraud investigation.""
Dad's face tightened.
"What happened?""
The officer held up the evidence bag.
Inside was Samantha's phone.
"We found this in a car registered to your wife," he said.
"The vehicle was abandoned outside a bus station this morning.""
Victoria made a strangled sound.
"Is Samantha all right?""
"We haven't located her yet.""
The officer turned toward me.
"Miss Carter, we need to ask you a few questions about the messages you've received.""
I nodded.
He opened the evidence bag slightly and checked the screen.
Then he looked up.
"There's one more thing. The phone contains a scheduled email addressed to the dean of Westbridge University.""
Dad stiffened.
"What does it say?""
The officer glanced at the screen.
"It's scheduled to send at ten forty-five this morning.""
My graduation ceremony was at eleven.
May you like
The officer's expression grew serious.
"And based on the preview, it appears to contain evidence intended to make sure you never graduate.""
