PART 11
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the sound of my own heartbeat.
Michael was alive twenty years after my parents said he died.
I looked at Daniel.
He had heard the officer too.
“What did you find in the hidden room?” I asked.
The officer lowered his voice.
“Photographs. Financial records. Medical files. And something else.”
“What?”
“A video recording.”
My stomach tightened.
“Of whom?”
“You.”
I froze.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“From when?”
The officer paused.
“When you were six years old.”
Daniel stared at me.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It gets worse,” the officer said.
“The video was recorded inside your grandmother's house.”
I closed my eyes.
My grandmother.
The woman I had spent my entire childhood believing was my protector.
The woman whose letter had started this nightmare.
The woman whose name had appeared in Michael's recording.
There were too many secrets.
Too many lies.
And now I didn't know whom to trust.
“Can we see the video?” I asked.
“Yes. But there's something you need to know first.”
“What?”
“The person who recorded it wasn't your grandmother.”
“Then who?”
The officer didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said:
“Michael Reed.”
My breath caught.
“Michael recorded me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We don't know yet.”
I looked at Daniel.
“We need to see it.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, we were back at the Carter house.
The hidden room was behind a false wall in my father's study.
I had walked past that wall thousands of times as a child.
Never knowing what was behind it.
The room was small.
Cold.
There were shelves filled with boxes.
Old photographs covered one wall.
I saw myself as a child.
At the park.
At school.
At my grandmother's house.
Even sleeping in my bedroom.
Someone had been watching me for years.
Hazel would have been terrified.
So I kept her with Margaret outside.
Daniel stood beside me.
“Who took all these pictures?”
I shook my head.
“I don't know.”
The officer placed a laptop on the table.
“We found the video here.”
He pressed play.
The screen showed a little girl.
Me.
I was sitting on a chair in my grandmother's living room.
I looked about six years old.
A man sat across from me.
I couldn't see his face.
Then I heard a voice.
“Emily, do you know who I am?”
The little girl on the screen shook her head.
“No.”
The man leaned closer.
“One day, your parents are going to tell you that I'm dead.”
My heart stopped.
Daniel grabbed the edge of the table.
The video continued.
“But I'm not.”
The little girl looked confused.
“Why?”
“Because sometimes adults lie to protect themselves.”
The man reached forward.
He placed a small necklace around my neck.
I touched it.
I suddenly remembered that necklace.
I had worn it for years.
My mother had told me it was a cheap piece of jewelry from my grandmother.
But now I knew better.
The man on the screen said:
“Keep this safe. When you're older, you'll understand.”
The video ended.
I stared at the blank screen.
“That was Michael.”
Daniel nodded.
“It was.”
I reached for the necklace around my neck.
I had never taken it off.
“Why would he give this to me?”
Margaret stepped closer.
“Because it may contain something.”
“What?”
She examined it carefully.
“The pendant is sealed.”
My heart began pounding.
We removed the tiny pendant.
Inside was a miniature memory card.
Daniel stared at it.
“That's why they couldn't find it.”
Margaret inserted it into the computer.
A single video file appeared.
No title.
No date.
We opened it.
Michael appeared on the screen.
He looked older than in the previous recording.
His face was bruised.
There was blood on his shirt.
But he was alive.
My eyes filled with tears.
“Emily,” he said.
I couldn't breathe.
“If you're watching this, then I'm probably gone.”
Daniel whispered:
“Dad…”
Michael looked directly into the camera.
“I need you to know that I didn't abandon you.”
He paused.
“I tried to come back.”
The screen flickered.
“Harrison found out I was alive.”
Michael lowered his voice.
“He threatened your mother. He threatened Daniel. And then he made a deal with someone I never expected.”
I leaned toward the screen.
“Who?”
Michael's eyes filled with fear.
“Evelyn.”
My grandmother.
He continued:
“Your grandmother wasn't protecting you from Harrison.”
“She was protecting Harrison from me.”
I felt dizzy.
“She knew about the money. She knew about the trust. And she knew what Harrison had done to Daniel.”
Michael took a breath.
“But she had one secret of her own.”
The video suddenly became distorted.
Michael leaned closer to the camera.
“Emily, if you ever discover the truth, don't trust anyone who tells you your grandmother died peacefully.”
The screen went black.
I stared at it.
Margaret's face had gone pale.
“What?” I asked.
She didn't answer.
“What is it?”
Margaret slowly sat down.
“Emily…”
“What?”
She looked at me.
“Your grandmother didn't die peacefully.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you saying?”
“She was murdered.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“By whom?”
Margaret opened another file.
A police report.
The cause of death had originally been listed as natural causes.
But there was an attached document.
An autopsy request.
It had never been completed.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because someone stopped the investigation.”
“Who?”
Margaret looked at the signature.
Then she whispered:
“Richard Cole.”
My father's lawyer.
The same man we had seen removing the documents.
I felt sick.
Then the police officer's radio suddenly crackled.
“Sir, we've got a problem.”
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What happened?”
“The woman we've been searching for has been located.”
“Eleanor?”
“No.”
The officer looked at me.
“Your mother is still missing.”
“Then who?”
He hesitated.
“We found a body.”
My heart dropped.
“Whose?”
He looked at the report in his hand.
“The preliminary identification says…”
He stopped.
Then looked directly at Daniel.
“It may be Michael Reed.”
Daniel went completely still.
I couldn't breathe.
“That's impossible.”
The officer shook his head.
“The body was found less than ten miles from here.”
“Is he dead?”
“We don't know yet.”
I stared at him.
Then my phone buzzed.
One new message.
From an unknown number.
“You were never supposed to find your brother.”
A second message appeared.
“And you were never supposed to find your father.”
Then a final photograph arrived.
I opened it.
It showed a man lying unconscious on a hospital bed.
I recognized him instantly.
It was Michael.
And beneath the photograph were five words:
“He has one hour left.”
