Chapter 5 - The Father Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Victor attacked the steel door first.
He pulled the handle.
Locked.
He hit it with his shoulder.
Nothing.
Emma stepped away from the door.
“Victor.”
He turned.
She pointed at the speaker.
“Your mother knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“She knew I would come here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Victor didn't answer.
The butler stood near the photographs.
His face looked older than before.
“I know.”
Victor turned.
“Then talk.”
The butler took a breath.
“Eleanor believed your father was alive.”
Victor stared.
“You told me he died.”
“I was told to.”
“By whom?”
The butler's eyes shifted toward Emma.
“Your mother.”
Emma frowned.
“Why would she lie?”
“Because she was protecting him.”
Victor stepped closer.
“From whom?”
The butler whispered:
“Your uncle.”
Silence.
Victor's uncle had supposedly died in a car accident twelve years earlier.
But now every lie seemed connected.
Emma looked at the photograph of herself.
“Why was I involved?”
The butler hesitated.
“Your mother worked for Eleanor.”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
Emma shook her head.
“My mother was a housekeeper.”
“She was more than that.”
The butler pointed to another photograph.
Emma's mother stood beside Eleanor.
Both women were smiling.
“You're telling me my mother worked here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
Emma felt dizzy.
She remembered almost nothing from that period.
Her mother had moved them constantly.
New apartments.
New schools.
New towns.
Emma had thought they were simply poor.
Now she understood.
Her mother had been hiding.
A metallic sound came from behind the wall.
Victor turned.
A section of paneling opened.
A man stepped out.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Thin.
But his eyes were unmistakable.
Victor froze.
The man looked at him.
“Hello, son.”
Victor's face emptied of color.
“No.”
Emma looked between them.
The man smiled sadly.
“You've grown.”
Victor's hand went to his gun.
“You're dead.”
“I was supposed to be.”
The butler lowered his head.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
Victor stared.
“You knew.”
“I helped him disappear.”
Victor's voice cracked.
“For twelve years?”
His father nodded.
“Your mother wanted me alive.”
“Then why did she let me believe you were dead?”
“Because if they knew I was alive, you would have been next.”
Victor looked toward Emma.
His father did too.
“She found her.”
Emma swallowed.
“Found who?”
“Your mother.”
Emma stepped forward.
“My mother?”
“She died six months ago.”
Emma's face tightened.
“My mother died eight years ago.”
The man shook his head.
“That was the story she needed you to believe.”
Victor looked at the butler.
“How many lies are there?”
The butler whispered:
“Too many.”
Suddenly the hidden speaker came alive again.
A different voice spoke.
Male.
Calm.
Amused.
“You're all finally together.”
Victor raised his weapon.
“Show yourself.”
The voice laughed.
“Look behind Emma.”
Emma turned.
A small red light blinked inside the wall.
Victor's father stepped backward.
“The room is wired.”
Victor looked at Emma.
“Get down.”
A sharp crack exploded through the room.
The lights went out.
Emma screamed.
When emergency lights came on, Victor's father was gone.
So was the butler.
Only Emma and Victor remained.
Victor looked at the open passage.
“Someone took them.”
Emma saw something on the floor.
A single white glove.
The butler's.
And tucked inside it was a tiny note.
Victor opened it.
His face hardened.
Emma asked, “What does it say?”
He looked at her.
“It says the spy isn't working alone.”
Then the note slipped from his fingers.
May you like
Because written beneath that sentence was Emma's full name.
And beside it was the address where she had lived as a child.
