The Heiress Returned from the Dead

They were selling her mother's lab notes while the world thought she was dead. Erin Moreau walked onto the auction stage and stopped the sale. “Lot Seventeen is not for sale.” “It belongs to Elise Moreau’s daughter. Me.” Nathan and Vera were in this room. Somewhere behind her, the two people who believed she was dead were waiting to sell her mother’s work. A bidder raised his paddle. The auctioneer checked her badge. ERIN MOREAU. ASSET REVIEW CONSULTANT. “Ms. Moreau, bidding has begun.” “Then stop it.” “Any concerns can be recorded after the sale.” She laid her photograph beside the display. “Page forty-six. Show them the rest.” The supervisor hurried over. “What’s the problem?” “The failed runs. You cut them out.” Several paddles came down. The auctioneer’s hand remained above his desk. “I requested the original,” Erin said. “You refused. Now you’re selling it with this image.” The supervisor reached for her photograph. She pulled it back. “Leave it where they can see.” “You approved the inventory.” He raised his voice enough for the front rows to hear. “Show them where I approved that picture.” A chair scraped behind her. Nathan Reed was standing, one hand locked around the chair. The color had gone out of his face. He looked at the scar along her jaw, then at the badge, then toward the supervisor as if someone else might tell him what to do. “Erin?” His voice failed on the second syllable. “What’s—” He pushed the chair aside. “What’s going on?” “The consultant has raised an objection,” the supervisor began. Nathan missed the step. His hand struck the glass case, rattling it hard enough that the auctioneer grabbed the microphone stand. “Erin?” She had rehearsed this. She couldn’t make herself say it at all. “Ms. Moreau?” she said. Her gaze caught on Erin’s scar, then dropped to the badge. “Vera.” A phone rose in the second row. “That’s Erin Voss.” Nathan reached toward the nearest phone. He stopped before touching it, his hand hanging uselessly between them. “Withdraw the lot. The page needs checking.” Nathan stared at him. “You assigned her to this?” “Under the name Moreau,” Vera said. “She didn’t tell the sale team—” “I told my partner exactly who I was. Ask him.” Erin looked at her. “He’s alive too.” Someone laughed near the aisle. Vera fumbled with her phone until the voice stopped. Erin put her withdrawal request on the table. “The revised display came after my review. I never approved it.” Vera stepped closer, blocking the photograph from the bidders. Erin slid it past her elbow. “Withdraw it,” Nathan said. “Nathan, we can check—” “Withdraw it.” Vera’s mouth stayed open. Nathan wiped his palm against his trousers. “For now,” he added. The gavel fell. “Lot Seventeen is temporarily withdrawn pending verification.” “Who approved the display, Reed?” a bidder called, still filming. Nathan looked down at Erin’s badge. “Her access to company records is suspended until we establish the conflict.” Erin tore the badge off. “You learned I was alive and suspended my access before you asked how I survived.” Nathan reached for her. She jerked away so hard the clip scratched her thumb. “There.” She dropped the badge into the attendant’s hand. “Is that better?” “Erin—” “Go on. You wanted everyone to hear the other part.” He glanced at the phones beside the stage. “Look at me,” she said. “Where did you think I went, Nathan?” “I didn’t know.” “Then ask.” “I thought you were dead!” Nathan said. The words carried farther than he meant them to. Every phone stayed pointed at him. He looked at Erin, then at the people filming, as if only now realizing what he had given them. Erin let out a breath that hurt all the way down. “And now I’m standing here. You still haven’t asked how.” “Forget it.” “Please. Let’s go somewhere we can—” “No. You can ask me here.” He reached for the badge in the attendant’s hand. She stepped between them. “Leave it. You took it. Leave it there.” She pressed her palm against the withdrawal request. “This was filed before you took my badge. Give me the storage reference.” Nathan nodded to the supervisor. “Let me handle this.” “Let him through.” Her phone vibrated. David: Do not make further statements for the project. We’ll talk tomorrow. She acknowledged it. The trolley rolled toward the side doors. “Are you really Erin Voss?” a woman asked. “This isn’t the place,” Nathan said. “The woman you declared dead is standing in front of you. You’re selling her mother’s work anyway.” Vera raised a hand toward the woman’s phone. “Stop recording. This is a private—” “You’re selling her mother’s books.” “I’m not giving an interview,” she said. “Please put that away.” The clerk brought her stamped request. She checked the reference twice, then folded it with the photograph. “Alexander Kane.” The man offered a card. Erin recognized the name from Helena’s calls to Ashmere about Elise’s trust. “My lawyer has been trying to reach your office.” “Owen has her messages.” “Then answer them.” “I will. Ashmere sent a custody notice this morning. You need to see it.” A buyer pushed closer with his phone raised. Alexander turned toward him, leaving Erin clear space. “Give her room.” He held out a letter from Ashmere’s trust office. Erin took it from him. She checked the trust name, then the inventory reference. Elise Moreau was named on the first line. Alexander’s name appeared nowhere on the page. Her fingers tightened on the paper. “What did Ashmere send you?” Nathan demanded behind her. Erin turned the letter over. The trustee had issued a temporary custody hold while the inventory was disputed. No transfer could proceed until the materials were checked. Nathan leaned close enough to read the notice. “They put a hold on it?” Alexander set the letter on the table between them and stepped back. A buyer aimed his phone at them. “Are you speaking for her?” Alexander did not look at Erin or reach for her. “No. I’m passing on the trust’s notice. Erin decides whether to use it.” Nathan struck the glass case again. Vera reached for the nearest phone, but the buyer angled it away from her. Three cameras were still recording. Erin checked the notice again. Nathan turned on the buyer filming beside them. “That’s not—” “Read the notice, Reed. Ashmere holds the materials while the inventory is disputed. No transfer until the trust releases them.” Vera flattened the notice against the table. “The hold is temporary.” “Neither had your display.” Erin pulled the paper out from under her hand. Nathan was staring at her again. “Stop looking at me like I owe you an explanation.” “You were standing in front of us, Erin. What am I supposed to—” “Move. You can work it out after I’ve left.” “We’re leaving,” she said. Nathan got to the doors first. “You’re not walking out with him.” Erin stopped. The buyer beside him was still recording. She could hear the paper crackling in her fist. “Move, Nathan.” “You don’t know what he—” “Move.” Her voice carried across the room. She let it. “I’m not asking you.” Alexander stepped aside, leaving the path clear. “She told you to move.” “You don’t know her.” “Then listen to her.” Erin turned toward Alexander. “You can give me the notice. I decide what to do with it.” “You decide,” he said. “And if you have something to say about the hold, say it to me.” He met her eyes. Erin took the notice. Nathan still blocked the doorway; she wanted to shove past him. She held up the notice. “Did you arrange this?” she asked Alexander. “No. The trust issued it after Helena’s request.” Nathan went still. “Ten minutes. With your lawyer on the phone, if you want.” “What did you know before tonight?” Erin asked. “Only that Helena was trying to get Ashmere’s notice through.” “I didn’t know you’d come.” She looked down at the trust letter. It had her mother’s name on it, and no claim in Alexander’s. Behind her, someone whispered Nathan’s name. He turned toward the sound, giving her room to pass. Erin walked into the lounge first. At the door she photographed the entire notice, keeping the trust name and inventory number in frame. Nathan called after her. She stepped inside and faced Alexander. “Who told you I was dead?” Alexander’s expression changed. “I don’t know.” Outside the lounge, Nathan hit the glass with his palm. “You told me she was dead!”