Chapter 5 - The Mother in the PhotographFor ten minutes, nobody spoke.
Claire stared at Mason’s body.
Her mother's death had been one of the first memories she had truly understood.
A funeral.
Black dresses.
Rain against umbrellas.
Her father beside her.
The words, She's gone.
Now Mason had planted a possibility inside her mind that refused to die.
“My mother is dead,” Claire said.
Adrian said nothing.
“Tell me.”
“Claire…”
“Tell me the truth.”
He looked at her.
“I don't know if she is alive.”
Claire stepped toward him.
“You knew there was a possibility.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't have proof.”
Claire laughed once, bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Adrian walked toward the desk.
He took out a file.
“This was recovered from a Halcyon warehouse.”
Claire opened it.
There was no name.
Only a series of photographs.
A woman in a hospital.
A woman boarding a private jet.
A woman sitting in an underground office.
Claire stared.
The woman's face was partially hidden.
But the profile was unmistakable.
Same dark hair.
Same eyes.
Same scar above the eyebrow.
Her mother's scar.
Claire sat down.
“No.”
Adrian crouched beside her.
“She may have survived the crash.”
“But the funeral…”
“Was based on what they wanted everyone to believe.”
Claire's hands trembled.
“Why would she disappear?”
“Because your father was killed.”
“What happened to her?”
“We don't know.”
Claire turned another page.
A handwritten note was attached.
SUBJECT TRANSFERRED TO BLACKWATER FACILITY.
“What's Blackwater?”
“A private prison.”
Claire looked up.
“She was imprisoned?”
Adrian nodded.
“Maybe.”
The next page contained a date.
Three months ago.
Claire stared at it.
Three months ago was when Mason proposed.
When he convinced her to move half of her assets into a new family trust.
When he began controlling the foundation.
Everything suddenly fit.
Mason hadn't been preparing to marry her.
He had been preparing to inherit her.
Adrian watched her.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“You should know who funded Mason.”
Claire looked at him.
“It wasn't Halcyon.”
“Then who?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Your foundation.”
Claire frowned.
“What?”
“Millions were transferred from the Whitmore Foundation into shell companies connected to Mason.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Look at the signatures.”
Claire stared.
The authorization had her name.
But the signature wasn't hers.
Her stomach dropped.
“Someone forged my signature.”
“Yes.”
“Who had access?”
Adrian's eyes held hers.
“Your uncle.”
Claire's breathing became shallow.
Then she noticed something on the last page.
A handwritten message.
WE DON'T NEED THE MONEY.
WE NEED THE BLOODLINE.
Claire looked up.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian's face became grim.
“Your father left something behind.”
“What?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“A vault.”
Claire shook her head.
“My father didn't leave me a vault.”
“He did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have the other half.”
Claire stared.
Adrian removed a small metal key from around his neck.
It looked old.
Black.
Heavy.
An engraved wolf covered the top.
Claire touched it.
Where the wolf's eye should have been was a tiny indentation shaped like a teardrop.
Adrian said, “Your father gave me half.”
Claire reached into her necklace.
Her mother's old pendant had always seemed ordinary.
But when she turned it over, she saw the same symbol.
A tiny teardrop.
Her pulse stopped.
Adrian looked at her.
“Your half is hidden inside that pendant.”
Claire's fingers trembled.
She opened it.
Inside was a second piece of black metal.
It fit perfectly with Adrian's key.
The moment the two halves touched, a tiny mechanical click sounded.
The key unfolded.
Hidden inside was a strip of paper.
Three words.
CHARLESTON. MIDNIGHT. CHURCH.
Claire looked at Adrian.
“Which church?”
His expression changed.
“The church where your parents were married.”
A loud crash came from outside.
Adrian stood.
His men ran to the window.
A car burned at the gate.
Then every phone in the room began ringing simultaneously.
Claire answered hers.
A distorted voice whispered:
“Bring the key.”
Claire froze.
“Who are you?”
The voice laughed.
“Ask your mother.”
Then the call ended.
Adrian looked at Claire.
She was crying.
But not from fear.
From fury.
“My mother is alive.”
May you like
Adrian nodded.
“And someone wants us to find her.”
