"That Elena had stolen something from the family."
"The necklace?"
"Yes."
"But you knew that wasn't true."
Delia looked down.
"I didn't know what to believe."
She handed Wren a small envelope.
"I found this in my mother's office."
Inside was a photograph.
Vivian stood beside a man Wren didn't recognize.
The date was twenty-four years old.
On the back was a name.
Graham Cole.
Preston recognized it immediately.
"Graham was the family's security director."
"What happened to him?" Wren asked.
"He disappeared after Elena died."
Wren looked at Delia.
"Where is he now?"
Delia shook her head.
"I don't know."
The necklace warmed.
"Northbridge."
Wren stared.
"What?"
The voice repeated.
"Northbridge Station."
Preston looked surprised.
"There was an old security storage facility there."
They drove immediately.
Inside an abandoned locker, they found a box containing surveillance tapes.
One tape showed the night Elena died.
A black car followed hers.
Then another vehicle appeared.
A Hawthorne security vehicle.
The driver was Graham Cole.
But the passenger was Vivian.
Wren watched the screen.
Her mother was being followed.
Vivian had been there.
Yet the footage ended before the crash.
Wren turned to Preston.
"We need the rest."
Preston nodded.
"There was another camera."
"Where?"
"The bridge."
They found the footage hours later.
The second camera showed something shocking.
Graham's vehicle stopped beside Elena's car.
But Vivian never got out.
Instead, another man emerged.
Charles Hawthorne.
Wren stared at the screen.
"My father?"
Preston shook his head.
"Not your father."
"Then why was he there?"
Nobody knew.
Until the necklace spoke.
"Ask what happened before the crash."
Wren stared at the screen.
They slowed the recording.
Charles leaned toward Elena's car.
He handed her something.
A folder.
Then Elena drove away.
The security vehicle followed.
Minutes later, her car crashed.
Wren felt sick.
"Charles was trying to help her."
Preston nodded.
"Perhaps."
"Then who caused the crash?"
The answer came from an unexpected source.
Delia whispered:
"My mother."
Everyone looked at her.
Delia's face had gone pale.
"I remember something."
"What?"
"That night, my mother came home with blood on her sleeve."
The room became silent.
Vivian was arrested two days later.
Not for murder.
Not yet.
The evidence supported financial crimes and obstruction, but the connection to Elena's death remained circumstantial.
Vivian's lawyers insisted she had been nowhere near the crash.
Wren knew they were missing something.
The necklace had spoken several times.
Each time, it had revealed another piece of the truth.
But now it was silent.
Wren sat alone in the greenhouse.
"Why won't you talk?"
Nothing.
She held the stone.
"Please."
Still nothing.
Then she remembered Elena's recording.
The words:
"The evidence is in the place where Charles proposed to me."
But they had already searched the greenhouse.
What if they had misunderstood?
Wren examined the old photographs.
Charles had proposed to Elena in the winter garden.
Not the greenhouse.
The winter garden was part of the main mansion.
Wren returned that night.
Preston helped her search.
Behind a wooden panel they discovered another compartment.
Inside was a cassette.
The label read:
E.V. — FINAL.
Preston found an old player.
The recording began.
Elena's voice was calm.
"If this reaches Wren, then she is old enough to know."
Wren closed her eyes.
"Your father was never Charles Hawthorne."
Wren's heart stopped.
"Your father was Daniel Vale."
Marisol had told her.
But Elena continued.
"Daniel was not just my husband. He was the accountant who discovered the Hawthorne transfers."
Wren looked at Preston.
"That's why they wanted him dead."
The recording continued.
"Charles tried to expose Vivian. He failed."
A pause.
Then Elena whispered:
"Vivian arranged the crash, but she didn't know Charles was following me."
Wren covered her mouth.
"Charles tried to save me."
The recording ended.
But something was written on the cassette.
A sequence of numbers.
Preston recognized them.
"Those are account numbers."
They traced the accounts.
Money had been transferred for years.
But one account remained active.
Wren's name was attached to it.
"How?"
Preston stared at the screen.
"Elena created a trust for you."
"How much?"
He hesitated.
"Enough to make certain people very interested in you."