CHAPTER 11
The Fourth Daughter
Dymond Carter stood outside Tasha’s house with my children.
The photograph had been taken from across the street.
Jayce was holding Amaya’s hand. Dymond stood slightly in front of both of them, dressed in an emerald-green suit, her eyes fixed on whoever was taking the picture.
She knew they were being watched.
And she didn’t look afraid.
THE EMPIRE HAS AN HEIR.
I read the message again.
“What does this mean?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
I turned toward my mother.
“Who is Dymond?”
“Not here.”
“That answer isn’t gonna work anymore.”
The tunnel shook again.
Behind us, metal scraped against concrete as the police tried to force open the entrance.
My father reached for the phone.
I pulled it away.
“Who is she?”
My mother looked at him.
He stared at the ground.
That was when I knew.
“She’s your daughter,” I said.
My father finally looked at me.
“Yes.”
“You said you had three daughters.”
“I do.”
I pointed toward Nesha.
“Me, Tasha, and Nesha make three. So what the fuck is Dymond?”
His silence answered me.
Another lie.
My mother stepped between us.
“Dymond isn’t Karen’s daughter.”
“I figured that much out.”
“Her mother’s name was Camille.”
The name meant nothing to me, but something about it affected my mother. Her voice sounded colder when she said it.
“Did you know about her?”
“I knew Camille was pregnant. I didn’t know the baby survived.”
My father shook his head.
“You knew.”
“I knew what you told me.”
“I told you Camille left Louisville.”
“You told me she lost the baby.”
“Because you would’ve killed her.”
My mother slapped him.
The sound echoed through the tunnel.
Nobody moved.
“You hid another child from me?” she asked.
“I protected her from you.”
“You protected her from the mess you created.”
My father rubbed his cheek.
“Dymond was safer away from the Carters.”
“Then why does she have our last name?” I asked.
“She didn’t always.”
“What was it?”
He hesitated.
“Not important.”
“If you hesitate one more time, I’m putting a bullet in you.”
“Keyshia,” my mother warned.
“I’m tired of both of them.”
My father exhaled.
“Dymond was raised by Camille’s mother. She found out who I was when she was seventeen.”
“And you welcomed her into the family?”
“No.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
“She didn’t need me. Dymond had already built something of her own.”
“What?”
“A reputation.”
I looked at the photograph again.
The emerald suit.
The way she stood in front of my children.
The woman didn’t look like somebody who needed protection.
She looked like the person people needed protection from.
“How does she know Tasha?” I asked.
My mother’s eyes narrowed.
“She shouldn’t.”
I grabbed the burner phone and called Tasha.
The call went straight to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
I called Jayce’s tablet.
It rang once before somebody answered.
The screen remained dark.
“Jayce?”
No response.
“Baby, say something.”
A woman’s voice came through the speaker.
“He’s safe.”
“Put my son on the phone.”
“In a minute.”
“Dymond?”
A brief silence followed.
“So Karen finally told you.”
“She didn’t tell me shit. I saw your picture.”
“Then you know the children are with me.”
“Why?”
“Because Tasha’s house was compromised.”
“By who?”
“The same people surrounding that warehouse.”
I looked at my mother.
“She knows where we are.”
My mother reached for the phone.
I moved away.
“Put Jayce on.”
“Momma?” he said.
Relief filled my chest.
“I’m here, baby. Is Amaya with you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did that woman touch you?”
“She saved us.”
I closed my eyes.
“What happened?”
“A man broke Auntie Tasha’s window.”
Dymond took the phone back.
“I arrived before he made it upstairs.”
“Where is Tasha?”
“Alive.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“She’s with your children.”
“Put her on.”
Another voice came through the speaker.
“Key?”
“Tasha, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know. Dymond showed up right before two men came through the kitchen.”
“You know who she is?”
“I know what she told me.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That she’s our sister.”
My chest tightened.
“And you believed her?”
“She had a DNA test.”
My father muttered something beneath his breath.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
Dymond returned to the phone.
“We need to talk in person.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“No.”
“You have my children.”
“And they’re safe because you don’t know where they are.”
“Give the phone back to Tasha.”
“Keyshia, listen to me. Whoever sent that photograph wanted you to think I took your children.”
“Didn’t you?”
“I removed them from a house two armed men had entered.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“You were busy escaping police custody.”
My father smiled.
Dymond heard him.
“Is our father with you?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Tell him he still owes me twenty million dollars.”
His smile disappeared.
I almost laughed.
“You’ll have to get in line.”
“Did he give you the key?”
I looked at the gold object resting inside my palm.
“How do you know about it?”
“Because I have the lock.”
My mother stepped closer.
“What did she say?”
I put the call on speaker.
“Say that again,” I told Dymond.
“The object in your hand isn’t enough to open the accounts. You have the encryption key. I have the device it goes inside.”
My father looked at my mother.
“You gave it to her?”
“I didn’t know she had it.”
Dymond laughed.
“Still lying, Karen?”
My mother’s face went cold.
“Be careful.”
“I stopped being afraid of you a long time ago.”
“You two know each other?” I asked.
“We’ve met,” Dymond said.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
The picture from the folder had been dated six months earlier.
My mother had been photographed standing beside Lawson.
Had Dymond taken it?
“You made the folder,” I said.
“No.”
“Did you take the photograph of Karen and Lawson?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been building a case against both of them.”
My mother grabbed the phone from me.
“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”
“I understand you ordered Dre’s murder.”
Everyone in the tunnel went silent.
Dymond had heard the transmitter.
Or she had someone inside the warehouse.
“How do you know that?” my mother demanded.
“I hear everything.”
“You think that makes you powerful?”
“No. What I do with the information makes me powerful.”
She sounded just like my mother.
That was the frightening part.
My father leaned toward the phone.
“Dymond, where are you?”
“Somewhere you can’t steal from me again.”
“I never stole from you.”
“You emptied an account with my daughter’s name on it.”
Daughter?
I grabbed the phone back.
“You have a child?”
“That isn’t your concern.”
“The message says the empire has an heir.”
“It isn’t talking about my daughter.”
“Then who?”
“You.”
I went quiet.
My mother stared at me.
My father looked almost proud.
I hated all of them.
“I don’t want the empire.”
Dymond laughed softly.
“Neither did I.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the key chose you.”
“It’s metal. It didn’t choose anybody.”
“Look at your palm.”
I opened my hand.
A small red mark had appeared where the key touched my skin.
It looked like the letter C surrounded by a circle.
The same emblem from the warehouse.
“What the hell did this thing do to me?”
“It confirmed your blood.”
“How?”
“A microscopic needle took a sample the moment you touched it.”
I almost dropped the key.
My father grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t lose it.”
I jerked away.
“You knew?”
“I knew it required Carter blood.”
“Whose blood?”
“The direct female line,” Dymond answered. “Karen’s blood. Your blood. Tasha’s blood.”
“Then why not you?”
“Because Karen isn’t my mother.”
It made sense.
Dymond was a Carter through our father.
Nesha was too.
But the empire had belonged to Karen.
And the key recognized me as her daughter.
“What about Tasha?” I asked.
“The key could have chosen either of you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you touched it first.”
Half a billion dollars had fallen into my hands because I picked up the wrong bag.
Or maybe it had never been the wrong bag.
Maybe somebody had switched the instructions because they wanted me to touch that key.
“Who sent me to the storage unit?” I asked.
“Not me,” Dymond said.
“Not Karen. Not Daddy. Not Lawson. Then who?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
Nesha moaned behind me.
Her head rolled against the wall.
I rushed toward her.
“Nesha?”
She didn’t answer.
My mother checked her pulse.
“She needs blood.”
“The doctor is waiting at the river,” one of the men said.
“We don’t have time,” my mother replied.
The tunnel entrance behind us exploded.
A wave of smoke and dust rolled toward us.
“They’re inside!” somebody shouted.
Gunfire echoed through the darkness.
My mother’s people returned fire.
“Dymond!” I shouted into the phone. “I need a doctor at the river exit now.”
“He’s already there.”
“How did you know?”
“I told you. I hear everything.”
The line disconnected.
My father lifted Nesha into his arms.
For the first time since finding out she was his daughter, he looked at her like one.
“Hold on, baby,” he whispered.
Nesha’s eyes opened slightly.
“You shot me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You lie a lot.”
“I know.”
She coughed and blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.
My father started running toward the river exit.
My mother followed.
I remained still for one second, staring down at the mark on my palm.
The empire had chosen me.
The police wanted me.
My parents had lied to me.
And the sister I had never met was holding my children somewhere in the city.
The phone vibrated again.
A new message appeared from an unknown number.
DYMOND IS NOT YOUR SISTER.
Beneath it was an attachment.
A DNA report.
I opened it.
My father’s name appeared at the top.
Dymond’s appeared beneath his.
PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 0.00%.
My chest tightened.
If Dymond wasn’t a Carter, she shouldn’t have known about the gold key.
She shouldn’t have possessed the lock.
And she definitely shouldn’t have had my children.
I ran toward the river exit.
“Dymond!” I shouted as I called her back.
She answered immediately.
“I knew they would send you that.”
“You said you were my sister.”
“I am.”
“The DNA test says Daddy isn’t your father.”
“Because he isn’t.”
I stopped running.
“Then how are we sisters?”
Dymond’s answer made the entire world tilt.
“Because Karen Carter is my mother too.”