Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Helped Him Disappear
The video froze.
My mother stood beside my father.
Holding something in her hands.
I stared at the screen, waiting for my mind to reject what my eyes were seeing.
But it didn't.
Because the woman in the footage was her.
My mother.
The woman who spent twenty years telling me my father was gone forever.
The woman who cried every night after he disappeared.
The woman who held my hand and promised me she didn't know what happened.
She knew.
My hands started shaking.
"No."
The word came out quietly.
Nobody answered.
I looked at Adrian.
He wasn't surprised.
That hurt more than anything.
"You knew."
Adrian lowered his eyes.
"I knew she was involved."
My chest tightened.
"My mother?"
He nodded slowly.
"Yes."
I stepped away from him.
"How?"
Adrian looked at the frozen image on the tablet.
"Because that night changed all of our lives."
I couldn't look away from my mother.
On the screen, she was standing beside my father in the Blackwood mansion.
She looked younger.
Different.
But the expression on her face was the same one I remembered from my childhood.
Fear.
She wasn't helping him escape.
She looked like she was running from something too.
"What was she carrying?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
That silence made me angry.
"Tell me."
He took a breath.
"Evidence."
"Evidence of what?"
"Everything your father discovered."
I looked at him.
"The list?"
He nodded.
"The people involved. The money transfers. The names."
My stomach turned.
"And my mother had it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Adrian looked at me.
"Because your mother was the reason your father found it."
I didn't understand.
"What does that mean?"
He moved toward the desk and opened another file.
Inside were documents.
Old reports.
Photos.
Letters.
He placed one photo in front of me.
It was my mother.
But she wasn't alone.
She was standing with a group of people.
One man stood in the center.
I recognized him.
Not personally.
But from newspapers.
Corporate events.
Television.
"The founder of Blackwood Industries."
Adrian nodded.
"My father."
I looked at him.
"Your father?"
"Yes."
The room became silent.
"You mean your family was involved?"
Adrian looked away.
"My father built the company with money that didn't come from honest places."
I stared at him.
"Then why didn't you expose him?"
His face changed.
Because that question hurt.
"Because I tried."
I waited.
"And what happened?"
Adrian looked at his wheelchair.
"The accident happened."
The answer was simple.
But the meaning behind it wasn't.
"You were attacked."
He nodded.
"My father wanted to stop me."
My heart raced.
"Your father tried to kill you?"
"Yes."
"And mine found out."
Adrian looked at the photograph.
"Your father discovered the truth before I did."
I looked back at the screen.
My mother and father.
Together.
Running.
"What happened after this?"
Adrian didn't speak.
I stepped closer.
"Adrian."
His eyes met mine.
"Your father took the evidence."
"Where?"
"He hid it."
"Where?"
Adrian's expression became serious.
"Somewhere nobody would ever think to look."
I waited.
But he didn't continue.
"Where, Adrian?"
He looked at me.
"With you."
My breath stopped.
"What?"
"Your father knew they would search for him. He knew they would search his house. His car. His workplace."
Adrian leaned forward.
"But they would never search a child."
I felt cold.
"No."
He nodded.
"Emily, your father hid the final piece of evidence before he disappeared."
"Inside what?"
Adrian looked at me.
"Something your mother gave you."
My mind raced through memories.
My childhood.
My room.
My toys.
My mother's belongings.
Then I remembered.
A small wooden box.
The one my mother always told me never to lose.
The one she said belonged to my father.
I hadn't seen it in years.
"Where is it?"
Adrian's expression changed.
"You still have it?"
I nodded slowly.
"I think so."
Before he could answer, my phone suddenly vibrated.
Unknown number.
Again.
This time, there was a photo attached.
I opened it.
My blood froze.
It was my apartment.
My old apartment.
The place where my children lived.
The picture had been taken from outside the window.
A message appeared underneath.
"You found the truth. Now we know where you live."
I couldn't breathe.
Adrian saw my face.
"What happened?"
I showed him the phone.
The moment he saw the picture, every bit of color disappeared from his face.
"Pack your things."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"You and your children are leaving tonight."
"Why?"
He looked toward the security cameras.
"Because they already found you."
Victoria rushed into the room.
"Mr. Blackwood."
Adrian turned.
"What?"
She held a piece of paper.
"I found this hidden inside the old security files."
She handed it to him.
Adrian read it.
Then his face changed.
"What is it?"
He didn't answer.
I grabbed the paper.
At the top was a date.
The night my father disappeared.
Below it was a handwritten note.
My father's handwriting.
But the words weren't meant for Adrian.
They were meant for me.
"Emily, if you are reading this, it means your mother failed to protect you."
I felt my heart break.
I read the next line.
"Do not trust the person who raised you."
My hands went numb.
Adrian looked at me.
"Emily..."
I couldn't hear him.
Because suddenly, every memory I had of my childhood felt different.
Every answer.
Every story.
Every tear my mother cried.
What if they were all lies?
Then another line appeared below.
A line that made my entire body freeze.
"The person who betrayed me was never your mother."
I looked at Adrian.
"What does that mean?"
He didn't know.
Nobody knew.
Until my phone received another message.
This time, it wasn't from an unknown number.
It was from my father's number.
The number that had been disconnected twenty years ago.
The message contained only four words:
May you like
"Come to the basement alone."
And attached was a photo of the old Blackwood mansion basement door, opened from the inside.
