Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Wasn't MissingThe image changed.
My mother turned her head.
She wasn't looking at a camera.
She was looking at someone standing beside it.
A man.
I couldn't see his face.
Vincent stepped toward the screen.
"Freeze it."
The image stopped.
He zoomed in.
The man wore a silver ring.
A black stone.
Vincent went pale.
"What?"
He didn't answer.
I stared at the ring.
I'd seen it before.
On the hand of a man who visited our apartment when I was little.
He brought groceries.
He fixed broken locks.
My mother always called him Uncle Daniel.
"That man," I said.
Vincent looked at me.
"Who?"
"My mother knew him."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Daniel?"
I nodded.
Vincent's expression changed.
"Daniel was dead."
I shook my head.
"He wasn't."
"How long ago did you see him?"
"When I was eight."
Vincent looked at the guard.
"Find every record on Daniel Vale."
The guard left.
I stared at the screen.
The footage resumed.
My mother stood in the burning apartment.
But something was wrong.
The flames weren't moving naturally.
They repeated.
The same flame.
The same smoke.
Every six seconds.
I pointed.
"It's not live."
Vincent looked.
"It's a loop."
My heart pounded.
"Then where is she?"
Vincent shook his head.
"We don't know."
The laptop suddenly emitted a sound.
A file opened by itself.
A video.
My mother appeared.
She was sitting in a dark room.
"Hello, Lena."
I moved closer.
"If you're watching this, then the first layer has failed."
Vincent stood behind me.
My mother's eyes were tired.
"I know you'll hate me."
"Yes," I whispered.
She smiled sadly.
"That's okay."
She continued.
"Your father will tell you he tried to protect us."
I looked at Vincent.
"He did."
My mother shook her head.
"He tried to protect the wrong thing."
Vincent stepped forward.
"Elena."
Her expression hardened.
"You were supposed to keep them out."
"You disappeared."
"I had to."
"You left her."
"I left her alive."
They sounded like two people in the middle of an argument that had lasted years.
I stared at the screen.
"What happened?"
My mother looked directly at me.
"The fire."
My heart raced.
"You were six."
"I remember smoke."
"You were never inside the building."
I frowned.
"What?"
"You were in a car."
"Who was driving?"
My mother hesitated.
Then said:
"Your father."
I looked at Vincent.
He looked down.
"What happened?"
My mother answered for him.
"He didn't know who was following you."
I stepped backward.
"He drove you to the safe house."
"Why did the fire happen?"
"Because someone wanted you to believe you were dead."
"Who?"
My mother looked off camera.
"The Ravens."
"Why me?"
She swallowed.
"Because you were born with something they could never take."
I looked at the red notebook.
"A key?"
"No."
"What?"
My mother leaned toward the camera.
"Evidence."
The video glitched.
Before it ended, she said:
"Find the third child."
The screen went black.
Vincent stared at me.
"What third child?"
I remembered the old man.
Three children.
Just like before.
I looked toward Luca.
Then Maya.
"Who is the third?"
Vincent didn't answer.
His phone rang.
He picked it up.
A text appeared.
ONE IS HIS.
Another message appeared.
ONE IS HERS.
Then a third.
THE LAST ONE IS YOURS.
Vincent looked at me.
The doors of the compound slammed shut.
Alarms started screaming.
A guard burst into the room.
"Boss!"
"What?"
"We found Daniel Vale."
"Where?"
The guard's face was white.
"In the basement."
Vincent moved.
I followed.
The basement door opened.
A man sat tied to a chair.
He was alive.
Older.
Blood running down one side of his face.
But the silver ring was on his finger.
Uncle Daniel.
He looked at me.
And smiled.
"You're finally old enough."
I stopped.
"Old enough for what?"
Daniel looked at Vincent.
"To hear why your mother stole you."
Then he laughed.
"Because Lena..."
May you like
He turned back toward me.
"...you're not Vincent Moretti's daughter."
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