Silk Memory
1279 Words
On his way, Dale answered his ringing phone, and the words from the woman on the other end brought him an immediate sense of relief.
“She’s back, sir. Sorry for the scare. She said she just went out to get some fresh air.”
“Great! Now let’s go home!”
Vivian said, shoving her seat back as she stretched out.
Meanwhile, Jacob shouted, “Wrong route,” his voice sharp, each word dripping with venom. “f**k! How is this even possible?”
The penthouse fell silent. Across the wall of monitors, the west lot tunnels stayed empty. No headlights. No movement. No sign of Dale. No sign of Selena.
Carlos stood in the doorway, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat even in the chilled air.
“He didn’t go through the tunnels, Dad. I tracked the GPS on their car. They went around. They’re at the house now. Should I head there instead?”
“No. Come home. That would be too risky.”
Jacob said it flatly, and Carlos nodded before signaling the others to pull back.
Claudia didn’t move from her spot. She remained on the balcony, one hand gripping the railing, the other holding a glass of wine she hadn’t touched since Jacob entered. She watched everything unfold like a scene she’d witnessed too many times before.
“Calm down, Jacob,” she said finally, her voice smooth and steady, slicing through his fury like a blade. “Yelling won’t bring her home.”
He spun toward her, fists clenched tight.
“She’s my daughter. And she’s with him. With Dale Farmington. Peter’s son.”
Claudia set the glass down with a quiet click. Her eyes were cold, calculating, as she walked back into his study.
“And now she’s my daughter too,” she said. “She’ll come home. Not because you chase her like an animal. Because I’ll drag her back myself.”
Jacob froze. He recognized that tone. It had been years since he’d heard it, but he knew it instantly.
“What are you planning?” he asked, suspicion sharpening his gaze.
Claudia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Family, Jacob. You’ve forgotten how it works. You use force. I use memory.”
She moved past him, her heels echoing against the marble floor.
“Give me an hour. Don’t touch his house. Don’t send your men. If I can’t bring her back, then you can burn it down.”
Jacob opened his mouth to argue, but she was already gone, the elevator doors sliding shut behind her.
The Laurent estate had rooms no one entered anymore. Claudia headed straight for one of them.
Her mother’s dressing room.
The lights flickered to life with a dusty hum. Gowns hung behind glass, preserved like relics. Silk, lace, velvet. The air was thick with the scent of old perfume—heavy, floral, suffocating.
Claudia walked past them until she stopped in front of it.
The deep red dress.
Her mother wore it to every Laurent gala. The last gala she ever attended. Claudia had been sixteen then. She still remembered how the dress moved whenever Sarai turned, how every conversation in the room died the moment she appeared.
Claudia stripped off her black suit without hesitation. The fabric pooled on the floor like discarded skin. She slipped into the dress. The silk felt cool against her skin, too loose across her chest, too tight at her waist.
She fixed the straps, pinned her hair up, and stood before the mirror.
For a moment, she was Sarai Laurent, Jacob’s late wife.
She was younger. Dangerous. Untouchable.
She looked exactly like the woman who had ruled this family before Jacob tore it apart.
Her phone buzzed. A burner. A new number. She’d had it prepared for hours.
She opened the camera.
The first picture showed her standing before the Laurent crest, the red dress stark against the gold.
The second was a close-up. The necklace. The heavy emerald her mother never removed, not even to sleep. The same necklace that appeared in every photo from Selena’s childhood.
The third showed her hand resting on the edge of the old nursery clinic’s admission book. The name Sarai Claire Laurent was visible in the corner, just clear enough to read.
No caption. No explanation. She would let Selena figure it out.
Claudia sent all three pictures from the unknown number. Then she typed one line and hit send.
She set the phone down and stared at her reflection.
“Come home, Selena,” she whispered. “Before I have to make you.”
Selena’s phone vibrated on the nightstand.
She’d been drifting in and out of sleep in the guest room, her body exhausted but her mind restless. Then she heard a car driving through the compound and rushed to the window to look.
Relief washed over her when she saw he was back, though she couldn’t say why it mattered so much.
Her phone beeped several times after that, and she walked over to grab it blindly.
Her eyes snapped open at the first picture—Claudia wearing her mother’s dress, standing in the Laurent estate as if she belonged there. As if she’d never left.
Selena collapsed onto the bed, her vision blurring.
Then she saw the other two pictures which were even worst than the first.
Her breath caught.
Then the message appeared beneath it.
“Hello Selena. I hope you’re doing well.”
“Selena?”
Dale’s voice came from the hallway, sharp with alarm as he reached her room.
Dale knocked and slowly pushed the door open, his face pale in the hallway light. He saw the phone in her hand, saw her expression, and knew something was wrong.
“Are you okay?”
He asked, and she shot upright, but Dale moved quickly, stepping in front of her before she could reach the door.
“Step aside. I need to go home. This arrangement is over.”
She said, tears streaming down her face, but he didn’t budge.
“I don’t know what this is,” he said. “But going there isn’t the right move, not tonight.”
Selena tried to shove past him. “If I don’t go, she’ll keep wearing my mother’s things, please!”
“And if you go, Jacob wins,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “You know that. You go there now, and you walk straight into his hands. Is that what you want?”
Selena’s eyes were wet, but she wasn’t crying this time. Not yet.
“I don’t care. I don’t care if he wins. I don’t care anymore. She can’t treat my mother’s things like they’re hers. Please let me go.”
“Selena—”
At the sound of her name, she broke down in his arms, thrusting the phone at him so he could see the pictures.
Dale cursed under his breath.
Selena’s grip tightened, her fingers clutching his shirt.
He didn’t say anything. He just let her cry because she needed to. And when he heard Vivian coming up the stairs, he quickly pulled away and ran to lock the door before Vivian could get in.
“Hey, open up! Open this door now!”
“Go to bed, Vivian. Just go to bed!”
Dale replied as they both sat on her bed, Selena still crying quietly.
“If she thinks she’s about to take my mother’s place, she’s a liar. I would kill her with my bare hands and leave her for the wild animals to feast on.”
She said it, her gaze cold as she stared into nothing.
- Writer
