Chapter 10 - The Secret HospitalMy mother admitted everything.

She had ordered Marcus to protect me.

But she had never told him the entire truth.

Because she was afraid someone was watching him.

The hospital had been infiltrated.

Doctors had been paid.

Records altered.

Even my surgery had been funded through a Mercer account.

I wasn't just a survivor.

I had been hidden evidence.

My scars were proof the fire had happened.

My blood was proof the death certificate was false.

And my memories contained something everyone wanted.

The final location of the original ledger.

I didn't remember.

Or so I thought.

Then I found an old photograph from the hospital.

A doctor was standing beside my bed.

His face looked familiar.

I recognized him.

He had been at the wedding.

Dr. Adrian Cole.

My surgeon.

I confronted him.

He broke down.

"I was ordered to erase your records."

"By whom?"

"Your grandfather."

"But he's dead."

"His instructions weren't."

He handed me a key.

"The original ledger is beneath the Mercer chapel."

I went there that night.

The chapel was abandoned.

Beneath the altar was a hidden staircase.

It led underground.

At the bottom was a vault.

Inside were boxes.

Photographs.

Contracts.

Passports.

Birth certificates.

Death certificates.

Dozens of identities.

Then I found one box marked:

CAROLINE MERCER.

Inside was my childhood diary.

I opened it.

The final page had been torn out.

Marcus looked around.

"Someone has been here recently."

Footsteps echoed from the tunnel.

We turned.

Juliette appeared.

But she wasn't alone.

My mother stepped out behind her.

Then Daniel.

Alive.

Blood still marked his shirt from the cemetery.

He smiled.

I realized the entire thing had been staged.

The shooting.

The disappearance.

The clues.

Everything.

Juliette closed the vault door behind us.

"You finally found it."

Daniel looked at me.

"And now you're going to tell us where the last page is."

I stared at him.

"I don't know."

My mother whispered:

"You do."

Then she pulled out a photograph.

It showed me as a child.

Holding a red notebook.

Behind me stood my grandfather.

And written on the wall was a phrase.

THE GIRL REMEMBERS WHAT THE FIRE TOOK.

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My mother looked at me.

"Caroline, you were the one who hid the final page."