Page 99 of The Lost Heiress
“Hello?” Saoirse called out, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “Who’s there?”
The person didn’t answer. They took another step forward. Saoirse couldn’t see from this distance who it was, if she knew them.
She tugged on Salvador’s arm, and he turned to look too.
“Who is that?” she whispered to him, and she felt his arms tighten around her.
Just then, the sky lit up again, not with a colorful explosion but with lightning. Saoirse saw who the person was and what they were holding.
“Oh my God,” Saoirse said.
And then the sky went dark, plummeting them into pitch blackness.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
August 28, 1982—The Night Of Saoirse’s Birthday Party
It was Ransom.
It took Elena a moment to realize he had his hand on the door, keeping it shut. That she couldn’t leave. She turned her head—he was right behind her, standing so close the heat of his breath hit the side of her face.
“Wait,” he said.
His voice was soft, barely a whisper. She hated the way her body responded to him, softening, turning toward him, when she was so angry, when she wanted to hate him. For a moment, they just looked at each other, merely inches apart.
Ransom cleared his throat, took a step back. He motioned toward the sofa facing the fireplace. “Let’s sit,” he said. When she didn’t move, he added pleadingly, “Please.”
“Okay,” Elena said. Her grip lightened a little on her purse. She returned to the couch, and Ransom sat next to her this time, but carefully, a good distance apart, as if he were afraid of getting too close.
“I’ll tell you as much as I’m able to,” he said. “I’ll be as honest as I can be. And in return, I ask that you give me your word that whateverI relay to you tonight is never talked about outside this room. People’s lives depend upon it.”
“People’s lives?” Elena asked.
“That’s all I can say until you agree,” Ransom said. “You said you want the truth about what happened that night. That knowing will grant you some sort of peace. Fair enough. I will tell you what you want to know, what really happened to Rosie, but it’s for you to know and no one else.”
Elena sat back. “What? No nondisclosure agreement for me to sign this time?” she asked. “Just my word?”
“Anyone can wiggle their way out of legal entanglements if they really want to,” Ransom said. “A person’s word is more binding if they have a certain level of integrity, which I believe you to possess.”
Elena thought about this for a moment. Then, she extended her hand. “Okay,” she said. “You have my word. Whatever you tell me will never leave this room.”
They shook on it.
“Who was the girl that was with you on the boat that day?” Elena asked. “The other one—the one Rosie saw with you at the hotel?”
“Her name is Vivienne Smith,” Ransom said. “She’s my sister.”
Elena blinked at him. “Your sister?” she said. “I don’t understand. You have another sister besides Saoirse?”
Ransom nodded. “I didn’t know about Vivi until after my parents passed away,” he said. “They kept her hidden away at a nunnery in Santa Maria—a secret to the world.”
“Why would they do that?” Elena asked.
“Vivi was born severely developmentally handicapped,” Ransom said. “My parents wanted to protect her. Or, maybe, they wanted to protect themselves. I don’t know. I won’t excuse it, what they did, but there it is.”
Elena waited for him to go on.
“It was Vivi’s birthday that weekend,” Ransom said. “Our parents had just passed away, and Theo and I wanted to do something nice forher. We never got to be a family together, growing up. Vivi wasn’t a part of our holidays or any of our family trips. So we took her away for the week, to Los Angeles, to the Duchess Hotel, just like our parents used to take us when we were kids. We were trying to make it up to her—everything she had missed out on, everythingwehad missed out on by not having her there.”
