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This will break Foster. Henry was all he had.
There's no one in Foster's corner.
Foster needs someone in his corner.
Why would Henry leave the land to me and not to Foster?
It doesn't make any sense.
I look up at the lawyer and he's still smiling.
This whole thing seems fake. It can't be true. "Is this real?"
He nods. "It's real."
How could this be? Unless… Henryisin Foster's corner. From beyond our world, he's looking out for his son. He knows we're meant to be. He's trying to connect us.
Now I've really gone lulu if I think Henry is trying to play matchmaker from the grave.
The papers crinkle in my hands. It could be a trap. Donnie could have pulled this to mess with me. Shoot. My father could be behind it.
But this lawyer seems totally legit. There's something so honest and genuine about it. There's no hint of tampering. It's clearly an old man's handwriting and words. He called me Mila, knowing that's what Foster called me.
Listen to your heart right now because you know in your soul, I love you.You love me.
Yes. I need to listen to my heart. I don't have anyone in my corner here. I'm alone in that Manhattan mansion with strangers. They aren't my family. The only person who ever saw who I really am was Foster. He was in my corner and I betrayed him.
I need to figure this all out, but something has changed. I'm moving in the right direction now.
"Okay. Thank you. I mean. Thank you. Please, don't tell anyone."
"Of course."
"Can I have these?"
"Yes."
I quickly push them back into the folder and turn around. "Thank you. Um. Thank you. Bye."
Chapter 23 Come Back
I'm taking a huge risk that could very well get me killed today. If I die trying to collect evidence from my father, I'll never get the chance to stand in Foster's corner where I want to be.
So, I'm praying my own father, who has claimed to love me and protect me my entire life, doesn't murder me today.
My hand is about to knock on his office door when I pull it back. I have to swallow down the nausea that assaults me as I face my biggest fear. I should run. I could go to Boston, meet with the FBI, and then jump on a plane to California.
But first, I have to be brave and knock on this door. I check the device in my purse and make sure it's recording.
Tap-tap-tap.
"Come in, sweetheart." I'd messaged him telling him I wanted to discuss a charity event.
"Hi, Dad." I slowly enter his office and look around. It's a mess. Random papers and photos everywhere. A pile of magazines stacked high on the corner of his desk. A half-smoked cigar on a side table. Empty bottles of booze on his office bar cart. Cell phones scattered all over the place.
"Milana, Milana," he sing-songs. "You've been absent. I've missed you so much. I need to see your lovely face at Sunday dinners again. I need you working again. What on earth has kept you away?"
"I've been a little sick."
