Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Was Declared Dead
The photograph shook slightly in Bennett's hand.
Not because of him.
Because of me.
I knew that face.
I knew the eyes.
I knew the small scar near the corner of her mouth.
I knew the expression she always made when she was trying not to show fear.
Claire Vale.
Alive.
Standing outside Bellweather Room.
Ten minutes earlier.
Roman stared at the photograph like it was impossible.
Like his entire reality had just cracked open.
"Give me that."
His voice was quiet.
But everyone heard it.
Bennett handed him the picture.
Roman looked at it again.
Then again.
Like the third time would somehow change what he was seeing.
"It can't be."
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew what to say.
Except me.
Because I knew the truth was worse than the picture.
Claire wasn't supposed to be alive.
She wasn't supposed to be anywhere.
Six years ago, I watched the world believe she was gone.
I watched people cry.
I watched people blame each other.
I watched a family break apart.
And I stayed silent.
Not because I wanted to.
Because Claire asked me to.
But now...
She had broken that silence herself.
Roman looked at me.
"You knew."
I didn't deny it.
Not immediately.
That was enough.
His expression changed.
Pain came before anger.
That was something I didn't expect.
"You knew my sister was alive?"
I looked at the photograph.
"No."
"Then what?"
I swallowed.
"I knew she was afraid."
The restaurant became completely still.
Roman stepped closer.
"Afraid of what?"
I looked around.
Too many people.
Too many ears.
Too many eyes.
"Not here."
Roman watched me for several seconds.
Then he turned toward Derek and the others.
"Everyone leaves."
Nobody questioned him.
That was the strange thing about Roman.
People didn't obey him because they were forced.
They obeyed because his certainty made them believe there was no other option.
Within minutes, the dining room emptied.
Only Roman, Bennett, and I remained.
The woman who wanted to disappear.
The man who had spent six years searching.
And the secret that connected us both.
Roman placed the photograph on the table.
"Start talking."
I looked at him.
"You always give orders?"
"Usually."
"And people listen?"
"Usually."
I almost smiled.
"That must be exhausting."
For a second, I saw the old Roman.
The confident man from earlier.
The man who believed he controlled every situation.
Then it disappeared.
Because Claire's face was still sitting between us.
"Please."
That word surprised me.
Roman Vale didn't say please.
Not according to the stories.
Not according to the rumors.
But he did then.
Because this wasn't business.
This was family.
So I sat down.
And for the first time in six years, I said her name.
"Claire found me after my final fight."
Roman's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
I looked down.
"The night everyone thought Evelyn Mercer disappeared."
My old name sounded strange.
Like someone else's life.
"Claire was there."
Roman stopped breathing for a moment.
"You were with her?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
I closed my eyes.
Because the memory was still sharp.
Too sharp.
Six years earlier.
The lights.
The crowd.
The reporters.
The celebration that turned into chaos.
I had won.
I had everything I thought I wanted.
Then Claire arrived backstage.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
She wasn't supposed to know me.
But she did.
She walked into my room with fear in her eyes.
Not concern.
Not curiosity.
Fear.
"She told me someone inside your family was hiding something."
Roman's face hardened.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care what you believe."
My voice became colder.
"I spent six years living like a ghost because I believed her."
Roman looked away.
That hurt him.
I could see it.
Because deep down, he knew there were things about his own family he didn't understand.
"What did she say?"
I remembered Claire's exact words.
Not because I wanted to.
Because some sentences never leave you.
"She said if anything happened to her, nobody was supposed to trust the official story."
Roman stared at me.
"The official story?"
"She knew something was coming."
"What?"
I shook my head.
"She wouldn't tell me."
"Why?"
"Because she thought knowing would put me in danger."
Roman stood.
He walked toward the window.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then:
"Six years ago, Claire called me."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He didn't turn around.
"She called me the night she disappeared."
The air changed.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
His hands tightened.
"Because she never spoke."
I frowned.
"What?"
"The call connected."
Roman's voice became lower.
"But nobody said anything."
A chill moved through me.
"How long?"
"Forty-three seconds."
That number meant something.
I didn't know why.
But it did.
"Then the line went dead."
Roman turned back.
"And the next morning, I found out she was gone."
I stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
His expression changed.
Because the answer was something he hated.
"Because I thought she was asking me not to."
Silence.
I understood.
Because Claire was careful.
She never asked directly.
She made people choose.
And sometimes choosing wrong was the entire point.
Bennett suddenly looked at his phone.
His face changed.
Roman noticed.
"What?"
Bennett hesitated.
Then handed him the phone.
Roman read the message.
His expression disappeared.
"What is it?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
"Bennett."
"Roman..."
"What is it?"
Bennett looked at me.
Then back at him.
"The security team found where the woman from the photo went."
Roman took a step forward.
"Where?"
Bennett's voice lowered.
"To an address connected to Claire."
My heartbeat changed.
"Which address?"
Nobody spoke.
Because they already knew.
And because Roman knew what that place meant.
"Roman."
He looked at me.
"Six years ago, that building burned down."
I felt cold.
"What building?"
His eyes met mine.
"The training facility where you disappeared."
I stopped breathing.
No.
That was impossible.
Nobody knew about that place.
Nobody was supposed to.
I stood.
"Take me there."
Roman looked surprised.
"You want to go?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Because I knew something he didn't.
Because Claire didn't choose that place randomly.
Because she was sending a message.
I grabbed my jacket.
"Because if Claire is alive..."
I looked at the photograph.
"...she wants us to find something."
Twenty minutes later, we arrived outside the abandoned training facility.
The building looked exactly as I remembered.
Broken windows.
Empty halls.
A place filled with memories nobody wanted.
Roman walked beside me.
Neither of us spoke.
Inside, the air smelled old.
Like dust.
Like time.
Like secrets.
Bennett checked the rooms.
Nothing.
Until I saw it.
A mark on the wall.
A symbol Claire used when she wanted me to know something.
My fingers touched the faded paint.
Roman noticed.
"You recognize that."
I pulled my hand away.
"No."
Another lie.
He knew.
I knew.
But neither of us said it.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
I opened it.
My entire body froze.
It was a picture.
Taken inside the building.
Right now.
Not six years ago.
Not yesterday.
Now.
The picture showed Roman and me standing in the hallway.
But the person who sent it was not outside.
The message underneath contained only five words.
"Turn around, Evelyn."
I slowly looked behind me.
The old training room door was moving.
May you like
Opening from the inside.
And someone whispered my name from the darkness.
