PART 15
The next morning, I stood in front of Room 317.
The old key trembled between my fingers.
For thirty-two years, this room had been nothing more than a forgotten number in a story no one wanted to tell me.
Now I was finally standing in front of it.
Daniel stood behind me.
Michael was still recovering in the hospital, and Margaret had refused to come.
She said she couldn't face what was inside.
I inserted the key.
Click.
The door opened.
A cold smell of dust and old medicine drifted into the hallway.
I stepped inside.
The room was almost empty.
One metal bed.
One broken chair.
A small cabinet.
And a window covered with thick metal bars.
I looked around.
“This is where she was kept?”
Daniel nodded.
“According to the records.”
I walked toward the bed.
My fingers touched the rusted frame.
Then I noticed something carved into the wall.
Three letters.
E.R.C.
My initials.
I stepped back.
“She was here.”
Daniel crouched beside the wall.
“Look.”
Near the bottom was another message.
“Beneath me.”
I immediately remembered Claire's letter.
Don't look for me. Look beneath the floor.
Daniel pulled out a small flashlight.
We searched the floor.
One tile looked different.
“That's it.”
He pried it up.
Beneath it was a metal box.
My heart began pounding.
Inside were documents wrapped in plastic.
A necklace.
And a photograph.
I picked up the photograph first.
It showed Claire holding me as a newborn.
She was smiling.
I had never seen my mother's face before.
Tears filled my eyes.
“She was beautiful.”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“She looked happy.”
I turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
“If they tell you I died, don't believe them.”
My breath caught.
I opened the documents.
The first was a medical report.
Patient: Claire Reed.
The last page contained a note:
“Patient transferred under false identity.”
I stared at it.
“She wasn't killed here.”
Daniel shook his head.
“She was moved.”
“Where?”
I searched through the papers.
Then I found another document.
A transportation record.
The destination was an institution in northern Florida.
But the date was twenty-nine years ago.
That meant Claire could have survived for years after disappearing.
I grabbed the document.
“Daniel, she may have been alive.”
He stared at the page.
“Then we need to find out where they took her.”
* * *
We returned to the hospital.
Michael was awake.
When I showed him the photograph, tears immediately filled his eyes.
“Claire.”
“You knew she wasn't dead.”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was trying to find her.”
“For thirty years?”
“Yes.”
I placed the transportation record in front of him.
“Do you recognize this institution?”
Michael stared at it.
His face suddenly went pale.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“The place where I was taken after they faked my death.”
Daniel froze.
“So Claire was there too?”
Michael nodded.
“They were keeping both of us separated.”
I couldn't understand.
“Why?”
Michael looked at me.
“Because they were afraid we'd find each other.”
“Who?”
He took a deep breath.
“Your grandmother.”
I stared at him.
“But you said she wasn't the enemy.”
“She wasn't at first.”
“What changed?”
Michael looked away.
“She made a deal.”
“With whom?”
“Harrison.”
My stomach tightened.
“What kind of deal?”
“To protect you.”
Silence.
Michael continued.
“She agreed to hide Claire and me.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Control of the trust.”
I felt sick.
“So my grandmother sacrificed her own daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Harrison threatened to expose Claire's secret.”
“What secret?”
Michael hesitated.
Then he said:
“Claire wasn't your only sibling.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Michael looked at Daniel.
Then at me.
“You had another brother.”
Daniel went completely still.
“What happened to him?”
Michael's voice cracked.
“He disappeared before you were born.”
My mind raced.
“How many children were there?”
“Four.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Four?”
Michael nodded.
“Claire had four children.”
He pointed at me.
“You.”
Then at Daniel.
“Him.”
Then he lowered his eyes.
“And the other two…”
He stopped.
“Where are they?”
Michael's eyes filled with tears.
“We don't know.”
* * *
That night, Margaret finally came to the hospital.
She looked like she hadn't slept.
“I heard.”
I looked at her.
“Then you know.”
She nodded.
“You found the box.”
“Yes.”
“Then it's time.”
“Time for what?”
She pulled out a thick folder.
“This contains the original family records.”
I opened it.
Inside were four birth certificates.
My name.
Daniel's.
And two others.
Nathan Reed.
Sophie Reed.
I stared at the names.
“Where are they?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
She began crying.
“Harrison took them.”
“Why?”
“Because they were born with something he wanted.”
“What?”
“Their blood types.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if you understand the trust.”
She opened another document.
My grandmother's original will.
A handwritten clause caught my eye.
“My estate shall remain protected by the Reed children collectively. No single heir may access the full inheritance.”
I stared at it.
“So all four children are required.”
“Yes.”
My mother had not simply stolen money.
She had spent decades separating the heirs.
Daniel.
Me.
Nathan.
Sophie.
If we were never reunited, the trust could never be activated.
But there was something else.
At the bottom of the document was a handwritten note.
“If one child is missing, the others must find them before their thirty-third birthday.”
I looked at the date.
My birthday was in three months.
I suddenly understood.
We weren't running out of time because of money.
We were running out of time because someone else was searching for my siblings.
And whoever found them first…
would control the entire inheritance.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice whispered:
“Emily?”
“Yes.”
“I know where Nathan is.”
My heart stopped.
“Who are you?”
“You don't have much time.”
“Where is my brother?”
The man gave me an address.
Then he added:
“Come alone.”
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“Why?”
His voice became cold.
“Because Nathan isn't the person you think he is.”
The call ended.
I looked at Daniel.
He was watching me.
“What happened?”
I slowly lowered the phone.
“I found our third sibling.”
Daniel stood.
“Where?”
I looked at the address.
Then whispered:
“But they said he's been dead for twenty-seven years.”
And yet someone had just called me from his phone.
