Chapter 4 - Émilie stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.Her mother.
A newborn.
A silver bracelet.
A date taken seven years after Émilie was supposedly born.
She looked up.
“What are you saying?”
The stranger leaned against the wall.
“I am saying the story you were told about your childhood is false.”
“My mother died when I was six.”
“No.”
“She disappeared.”
“No.”
Émilie shook her head.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
He took out another photograph.
This one showed her mother entering a building.
The same warehouse.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Gabriel.”
“Why are you following me?”
“I've been following you for nine years.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother asked me to.”
Émilie stepped backward.
“She asked you to watch me?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“Everywhere.”
Anger overtook fear.
“You were watching a child for nine years?”
“I was making sure nobody found you.”
“Who?”
Gabriel did not answer.
Instead he looked toward the ceiling.
“We don't have much time.”
A noise sounded above them.
Footsteps.
Multiple people.
Gabriel immediately turned off his flashlight.
“Don't move.”
Émilie whispered:
“Who is that?”
“The people your mother was afraid of.”
Footsteps descended the staircase.
Gabriel grabbed Émilie's hand and pulled her behind the shelves.
Three men entered.
One carried a flashlight.
Another held a plastic evidence bag.
The third spoke.
“Find the notebook.”
“They've already been taken,” another said.
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
The man paused.
“Then find the girl.”
Émilie's heart nearly stopped.
Gabriel's fingers tightened around her wrist.
The men moved through the room.
One shelf after another.
Slowly.
Methodically.
Gabriel leaned toward Émilie's ear.
“When I move, run.”
“To where?”
“The back door.”
“And you?”
“I'll catch up.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You don't understand.”
The flashlight beam swept toward them.
Gabriel pushed her.
“Now.”
Émilie ran.
The men shouted.
She reached the back door.
Locked.
Gabriel appeared beside her and slammed his shoulder against it.
Once.
Twice.
The door cracked.
A bullet struck the wall behind them.
Émilie screamed.
Gabriel broke the lock.
They ran into the alley.
Rain hammered the pavement.
They did not stop until they reached a crowded café.
Gabriel collapsed into a chair.
Émilie stared at him.
“You said my mother asked you to protect me.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't she come back?”
“Because she couldn't.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked at the window.
“Because she was protecting someone else.”
“Who?”
He looked at Émilie.
“You.”
“I don't understand.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Your mother discovered a network that has existed for decades.”
“What kind of network?”
“They identify vulnerable people. They erase parts of their lives. They manipulate records. Sometimes they disappear people.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
“That doesn't explain my mother.”
“She found out who was paying them.”
“Who?”
Gabriel's answer came quietly.
“Someone inside the government.”
Émilie stared.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
He reached into his pocket.
He placed the silver key on the table.
“But I expect you to believe this.”
Émilie frowned.
“I thought I had the key.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“You found a copy.”
“What?”
“The real key was in your mother's possession.”
He placed a second key beside it.
Identical.
Except this one had a tiny engraving.
A heart.
Émilie touched it.
“What's it for?”
“Your mother's last hiding place.”
“Where?”
Gabriel looked directly at her.
“Beneath your childhood home.”
Émilie felt sick.
“My house was demolished.”
“I know.”
“Then how can there be anything beneath it?”
Gabriel's expression darkened.
“Because the house above it was never the important part.”
At that moment, Émilie's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
No one spoke.
Then she heard breathing.
And a familiar voice.
Her mother's.
“Émilie?”
Her entire body went numb.
“Maman?”
A whisper.
“Don't trust Gabriel.”
The call ended.
Gabriel stared at her.
“What did she say?”
Émilie could barely breathe.
“She said…”
A loud crash came from outside.
Gabriel stood instantly.
“Who was that?”
Émilie looked toward the rain-covered window.
A car was parked across the street.
Inside it, a woman was sitting in the driver's seat.
Émilie's mother.
Watching them.
Then the car drove away.
Gabriel whispered:
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
May you like
He looked at Émilie.
“Because your mother has been dead for eighteen years.”
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