Chapter 4 - Uncle Julian's Return
The news of Arthur’s arrest hit the local papers the next morning.
It didn't take long for the military channels to reach overseas.
Three days later, while Chloe and I were still recovering in the pediatric ward under police protection, the door to our room opened.
A tall man in a crisp military uniform stood in the doorway.
His face was weathered, his eyes exhausted from travel, but the moment he saw us, his strict posture broke.
"Uncle Julian," Chloe sobbed.
He crossed the room in three massive strides and pulled us both into a gentle, careful embrace, mindful of our bandages.
"I'm so sorry," he kept repeating into our hair. "I am so damn sorry."
Uncle Julian had always been our protector before Dad died.
When Arthur entered the picture, Arthur systematically pushed Julian away, feeding him lies about how our mother needed space, and eventually intercepting our letters.
"I got the call from Detective Miller," Julian said, pulling up a chair. "I took emergency leave. I’m not going back until you two are safe."
"What about Mom?" I asked quietly.
Julian's jaw tightened. "Eleanor is facing charges of child endangerment and obstruction of justice. She posted bail, but she’s not allowed within five hundred feet of either of you."
It hurt to hear, but it was a necessary pain.
Our mother had chosen her fear of Arthur over her love for us.
"Where will we go?" Chloe asked, staring at her hands.
"With me," Julian said without hesitation. "I've already started the emergency custody paperwork. You're coming to my farm in upstate New York. It's quiet. There are horses. You can finally breathe."
Later that afternoon, Julian met with the hospital social workers and Detective Miller.
I overheard them talking in the hallway.
"The financial records are a mess," Detective Miller told him. "Arthur Vance has been bleeding your sister-in-law dry. He drained her personal accounts, remortgaged the house twice."
"But he couldn't touch Thomas's trust fund," Julian replied.
"No," Miller confirmed. "And that's the motive. We think he was keeping the girls isolated and terrified so that the moment they turned eighteen, they would be too afraid to refuse signing the trust over to him."
Arthur didn't just want our fear.
He wanted our father's legacy.
He had miscalculated one crucial detail.
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We were Thomas Finch's daughters.
And we were much smarter than he thought.
