Chapter 5 - The Man Beneath the House
The Truth Was Buried Alive
Nobody moved.
Three knocks.
Silence.
Three more.
I stared at the floor.
“Dad?”
Mom closed her eyes.
Rowan whispered, “How is this possible?”
I dropped to my knees and pressed my palm against the concrete.
Another knock answered.
I knew that rhythm.
Dad used it when we played hide-and-seek.
Two knocks meant “I'm here.”
Three meant “Come closer.”
“It's him.”
Rowan began searching the walls.
“There has to be an access point.”
Mom watched him.
“You won't find it.”
“Then you tell me.”
She hesitated.
I turned to her.
“Mom.”
She finally pointed toward an old furnace.
“Behind it.”
Rowan moved the furnace panel.
A metal ladder descended into darkness.
The smell hit us first.
Damp concrete.
Dust.
Metal.
And something else.
Blood.
Ivy started crying.
Rowan went down first.
Then me.
Mom followed.
The tunnel below was narrow.
Our footsteps echoed.
At the end was a steel door.
Rowan forced it open.
Inside was a room no larger than a bedroom.
Dad was sitting against the wall.
Alive.
His wrists were zip-tied.
His face was bruised.
I screamed his name.
He looked up.
For one second, relief crossed his face.
Then fear.
“Why did you come back?”
I knelt beside him.
“You told us to run.”
“I didn't mean back here.”
Mom cut his restraints.
Dad looked at her.
“You brought them.”
She didn't answer.
I stared between them.
“You two knew about this?”
Dad struggled to stand.
“My God, Lyra.”
“What?”
He looked at Ivy.
“Are you both okay?”
I nodded.
“What happened?”
Dad took a shaky breath.
“I found out your mother was being watched.”
“By who?”
“The people behind the network.”
“You said not to trust her.”
“I know.”
“Then why is she helping us?”
He looked at Mom.
“Because she's been trapped in this for eleven years.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Eleven?”
Dad nodded.
“She didn't build the network.”
“Then who did?”
He looked at me.
“The person who started it is dead.”
“Then who runs it now?”
Dad's face hardened.
“We don't know.”
Rowan stepped forward.
“You said someone is using family identities.”
Dad nodded.
“And one identity is worth more than all the others.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dad looked toward Mom.
She whispered, “Because of what happened before you were born.”
I stared at her.
“What happened?”
She finally spoke.
“Your father and I adopted you.”
Silence.
Ivy's eyes widened.
“What?”
Dad closed his eyes.
“We were never supposed to tell you.”
I couldn't hear anything for several seconds.
“You're not my biological parents?”
Dad shook his head.
I felt like the floor beneath me had disappeared.
“Then who is?”
Mom's voice broke.
“A woman named Elena Vale.”
Rowan suddenly turned pale.
“That's impossible.”
Dad looked at him.
“You know her?”
Rowan slowly reached into his jacket.
He pulled out an old photograph.
He placed it in my hand.
The woman from the basement photo.
The face that had been crossed out.
I stared.
It was the same woman.
And beside her stood my father.
On the back was a date.
Seventeen years ago.
The night I was born.
Then another paper slipped from the photograph.
A death certificate.
Elena Vale.
Date of death:
Seventeen years ago.
Cause:
Car accident.
I looked at Dad.
“Then how am I alive?”
Nobody answered.
May you like
Because footsteps echoed through the tunnel.
Someone else was coming.
