The Heritage Paper

Chapter 81



Veronica wandered away from Zach and sat on a bench. She held the small video screen inches from her face, as if that would help her hear better.

“Now that you’ve found a copy of the memoir, I want to let you know I left out one important chapter. The reason I did so was that I believe you, as Maggie and Jamie’s mother, are the executor of their heritage. Only you can decide what information will help them to grow, versus what will hang a burden on them. As my husband Harold used to say—pressure will either crush you or turn you into diamonds.

So that’s where Carsten got that saying.

“If it were up to me, I’d choose for you to never inform them of what I’m about to tell you.”

Veronica filled with fear. There was something about those piercing, pale blue eyes staring back at her. She took a quick look at a pacing Zach, whose natural curiosity was eating at him. Maggie and Jamie remained oblivious, still involved in the Sibling Olympics.

Ellen continued, “It is true that my mother, Etta, was a prostitute in Munich during World War I. It was there she met and became impregnated by a young German corporal. But it wasn’t until I was almost fourteen that my mother, then bedridden and nearing death, revealed to me who my biological father was.

“During the creation of her Heritage Paper, Maggie kept asking me why my son Josef was ‘chosen’ to lead the return of the Reich. I never answered her. Because he wasn’t chosen … he was born into it. He was an heir to the throne. And that’s because I’m the daughter of Adolf Hitler. And that’s the real reason he took me in and protected me.”

Veronica felt like her head just exploded. Did she just say what she thought she just said?

Veronica rewound the video, but the result was the same.

I’m the daughter of Adolf Hitler.

She did it again.

Adolf Hitler.

Again.

Hitler.

When Veronica found her bearings, she updated the family tree in her head. If what Ellen said was true, Adolf Hitler and Etta Sarowitz had a child, Ellen Sarowitz-Peterson. That was what Kingston meant about royal blood.

The bloodline had thinned dramatically over the years, including young deaths for Josef, Harry Jr. and Carsten. And coming in contact with the lineage from the outside appeared to be just as deadly. It had befallen Greta Peterson, Flavia’s mother ... and Eddie. She didn’t think that any of this was a coincidence.

Veronica looked into Ellen’s eyes, desperately searching for some clue as if to say she’s a little coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. But there was none. And after the last couple of days, how could Veronica legitimately dismiss it?

She stared out at Maggie and Jamie, feeling helpless. She had tried to protect them from everything—took every precaution—but in the end there was an evil embedded inside them. Derived from a gene cesspool. They were descendents of the devil.

Ellen provided a moment for it to sink in, as if she understood what her reaction would be, before continuing, “There are four remaining members in the blood line—Maggie, Jamie, Flavia, and James, who I presume has been elected president. He has known the secret since his formative years, and I informed Flavia yesterday in a similar manner to this. I asked her to bring that video to James—a last ditch effort for him to come to his senses, which I’m sure failed.

“Otto, or Aligor Sterling as you might have known him, is the only other member of the Apostles who is aware of this secret. So whether Jamie or Maggie ever learns of this information, is completely up to you. But recently I’ve become worried that an outside force has discovered this secret, and in the future, will attempt to harm those in the bloodline. So telling you this is also a call for awareness on your part.

“I know what you must be thinking, Veronica, but I don’t want you to jump to conclusions about any path Maggie or Jamie may take. History has already delivered its overwhelming verdict on my father, but what I can tell you is he was not programmed to become what he became. It was not genetic destiny, as most of the Apostles believe. Events shape our destiny, just as they shaped my father. His choices were regrettable, but not inherited.

“After burying my children, I vowed to spend the rest of my life protecting my family from these harmful secrets. Especially Carsten, who I never wanted to find my letters to Heinrich. Like his father, he couldn’t handle it, and snapped. And that’s why he did that to you—not a violent nature handed down through genetics.”

Veronica looked quizzically at the screen—did she know?

“Yes, Veronica—he came to me that night and revealed his actions. I never saw him so ashamed, and he vowed that he would never raise a hand to you or the children ever again. I’m confident he didn’t. You are too strong to have stayed if he did. You must trust me when I tell you he loved you and the children more than anything in this world.”

Ellen was now crying on the screen. Veronica cried with her, as if they were sharing it.

From a distance, Zach looked like he wasn’t sure if he should help or not. But she looked right past him toward Maggie and Jamie. They were now sitting on the floor with the bored looks of typical kids. No longer competing—united in their boredom.

Ellen looked as if she were drowning in regret. “Perhaps all this could have been avoided if I’d done a better job as a mother. You see, Veronica, mothers are the most powerful creatures in shaping the good of the world. I failed my children, which makes me realize how lucky that Maggie and Jamie are to have you. Despite our differences, I’ve always respected your stewardship of the children, and often envied it. I know you will bring out their goodness.

“But while I’m confident that they will forge their own path, I do see a few qualities in them handed down from my father.” A lump the size of a basketball clogged Veronica’s throat. Not the words a mother wants to hear. “I have seen his passion in Maggie, and I’ve noticed a similar charisma in Jamie. But remember, when guided the right way those qualities can be great attributes. Your children are a blank canvas, and you have always been a great artist. Godspeed, Veronica.”

With those words, the video went dark. Veronica removed the headphones.

“Are you okay?” Zach asked in a hesitant voice, as he approached her.

Why wouldn’t she be okay? No biggie—she just learned that her children were related to the devil.

Veronica wiped away tears. “I’m fine—she just had a few things she wanted to get off her chest about Carsten. Kind of a final goodbye.”

Zach nodded, but she could tell he was skeptical.

Then Maggie’s voice filled the vault, in her best twelve-year-old whine, “Are you almost ready, Mom?”

Jamie seconded, “Yeah, it’s so boring here!”

Zach looked at his watch, “If I’m going to make Baer’s show, we better get going.”

Veronica agreed. But as she stood, she pretended to lose her grip on the device. She dropped it to the floor, but it was still breathing. So she “accidentally” stepped on it with the heel of her boot. She twisted her heel until she was confident it had no chance of ever working again.

She would take the secret to her grave.