Chapter 5 - The Room Behind the WallThe tapping continued.
Three.
Three.
Three.
Maya stopped crying.
She looked at me.
"Mommy."
I nodded.
Vincent knelt beside the floor.
His guards returned.
"Open it."
One of them stared.
"Here?"
"Now."
A technician was called from the cabin.
He scanned the floor.
There was nothing.
No hidden compartment.
No mechanical fault.
No obvious source of the sound.
Then I noticed the pattern.
The taps were coming from the seat.
Not the floor.
From underneath Vincent's son's seat.
I pointed.
"That one."
The guard removed the cushion.
A panel was hidden beneath it.
Inside was a tiny recorder.
Vincent pressed the button.
Static filled the cabin.
Then my mother's voice.
"Vincent, if you're hearing this, they found you."
He closed his eyes.
Her voice continued.
"I knew they would."
A pause.
"If Lena is with you, do not tell her everything."
I stared.
Vincent stared at the recorder.
My mother's voice softened.
"Not yet."
My hands curled into fists.
"Why not?"
The recording continued.
"Because she will ask you about October 14."
Vincent looked at me.
"And when she does, tell her this."
The recording crackled.
"You did not choose her."
I frowned.
The message continued.
"She chose you."
The recorder clicked off.
Nobody moved.
"What does that mean?"
Vincent looked at me.
"I don't know."
"You keep lying."
He exhaled.
"I know."
"Then stop."
Before he could answer, the aircraft shuddered.
The captain announced an emergency landing.
Vincent's guards rushed to secure the cabin.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the recording.
You did not choose her.
She chose you.
I had no idea what that meant.
Yet somehow I knew my mother had intended those words to find me.
The plane landed at a small private airfield surrounded by darkness.
No terminal.
No passengers.
No lights.
Only rows of black vehicles waiting beyond the runway.
Vincent looked through the window.
"They knew where we'd land."
His guard asked, "Ravens?"
Vincent shook his head.
"Something worse."
The aircraft door opened.
Cold air swept in.
A convoy of men approached.
They wore no uniforms.
No visible weapons.
One man stepped forward.
He was old.
Gray hair.
Long black coat.
He looked at Vincent and smiled.
"Welcome home."
Vincent stood.
"Who are you?"
The man smiled.
"You really don't remember?"
I felt Vincent stiffen.
The old man looked at me.
Then at Maya.
Then at the baby.
"Three children."
He chuckled.
"Just like before."
Vincent's guard raised his weapon.
The old man didn't flinch.
"Careful."
He looked at Vincent.
"You'll scare the girl."
Vincent stepped in front of me.
"Where is Rachel?"
The man's smile disappeared.
"That isn't her name anymore."
My heartbeat stopped.
"Where is my mother?"
He looked directly at me.
"She has been waiting for you."
"Where?"
"In the house."
"What house?"
"The one your family built."
Vincent's face tightened.
"We don't have a family house."
The old man smiled again.
"Not anymore."
He raised one hand.
A dozen headlights turned on behind him.
The convoy wasn't waiting for Vincent.
It was waiting for me.
The old man looked at me.
"Come along, Lena."
Vincent grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't."
The old man laughed.
"You still think she's yours."
Vincent said nothing.
The old man continued.
"Ask her what happened when she was six."
I froze.
Six.
The age my mother refused to discuss.
The age I had always believed I had simply forgotten.
May you like
Then the old man said something that made my stomach twist.
"Ask her why she remembers dying."
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