Chapter 3 - My Father Wasn't DeadThe Name My Mother Was Terrified to SayThe world shifted beneath me.
I had spent five years believing my father was dead.
Every birthday, I had imagined what he might have looked like if he were still alive.
Mom had told me he loved blue shirts.
That he hated winter.
That he used to sing badly in the kitchen.
That he had died before the twins were born.
Now Arthur Pendleton was standing beside my mother's bed telling me none of it was true.
I turned to her.
“You lied.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Your father.”
I felt sick.
Arthur sent everyone except Dr. Mercer out of the room.
He shut the door.
“Start talking, Elena.”
Mom looked at him.
“I knew you would find us eventually.”
Arthur's voice became colder.
“You were hiding from me?”
“I was hiding from everyone.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because of her.”
I frowned.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
Mom reached for my face.
“You were eight weeks old when they came for us.”
Arthur stiffened.
“They?”
“The Pendleton organization.”
I looked at Arthur.
He didn't blink.
Mom continued.
“Your father discovered someone inside Arthur's family was selling information to a rival syndicate.”
Arthur's expression became unreadable.
“Who?”
Mom shook her head.
“If I say the name, we all die.”
“You're already poisoned.”
“I know.”
“Then say it.”
Mom began coughing.
Arthur moved closer.
She grabbed his wrist.
“Arthur, please.”
He stared down at her hand.
Something passed between them.
History.
Pain.
Maybe regret.
I had never seen my mother touch a stranger like that.
“Your father stole something,” she whispered.
“What?”
“A ledger.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“What ledger?”
“The Black Ledger.”
Even Dr. Mercer looked up.
Arthur became very still.
I didn't know what that meant.
Mom did.
“Names. Payments. Judges. Police officers. Senators. Judges who took money. Police who erased evidence. Men who ordered killings.”
Arthur's voice was barely audible.
“And Daniel had it?”
“He did.”
“Where is it?”
Mom looked at me.
I didn't understand.
She touched the locket around my neck.
My father had given it to me.
I'd worn it every day since I could remember.
“Here.”
Arthur stared at it.
“No.”
Mom nodded.
“The key is inside.”
Arthur carefully opened the locket.
A tiny metal key slipped into his palm.
He looked at me.
“What else did your father tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?”
I shook my head.
Mom whispered:
“He told me if anything happened, I should give the key to Arthur.”
Arthur looked stunned.
“Why me?”
“Because he trusted you.”
A long silence followed.
Then Arthur turned away.
His shoulders looked heavier.
I asked:
“Where is my father?”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Somewhere they can't reach.”
Arthur's phone rang.
He answered.
“Talk.”
His lieutenant spoke quickly.
Arthur's expression darkened.
“What do you mean the store manager is missing?”
I listened.
The manager.
Martin Kelly.
The man who had humiliated me.
Arthur walked toward the window.
“When?”
His face hardened.
“Twenty minutes ago.”
He hung up.
I felt a chill.
“Why would he matter?”
Arthur turned.
“Because the grocery store wasn't random.”
“What?”
“He knew who you were.”
I shook my head.
“He didn't.”
Arthur's eyes stayed fixed on me.
“He was told to make you panic.”
“Why?”
“To see whether you'd reveal where you lived.”
My mouth fell open.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Arthur looked at the key in his palm.
“They were testing you.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What happens now?”
Arthur answered quietly.
“Now they know I found you.”
His phone rang again.
This time he looked at the screen.
The call showed PRIVATE NUMBER.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then a man's voice came through.
“Tell the little girl her father is waiting.”
Arthur's face drained of color.
The caller continued:
May you like
“And tell her the first boy dies at midnight.”
The line went dead.
Related Stories
