Chapter 11 - The Man Who DiedMy father was alive.
That single fact broke the world I thought I understood.
Detective Reeves watched the footage twice.
“This could be fabricated.”
“No.”
I pointed to the metadata.
“Look at the date.”
Three years ago.
Then another file.
Two years ago.
My father.
One year ago.
My father.
Six months ago.
My father.
He had been alive the entire time.
My mother wouldn't look at me.
“Did you know?”
She whispered:
“Yes.”
I felt nothing.
Not anger.
Not sadness.
Just emptiness.
“You knew.”
“He asked me to protect you.”
“You protected me by letting me think he was dead?”
“He was hiding.”
“Where?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
I stared at her.
“You always know more than you say.”
She looked toward Evelyn.
Then toward her stomach.
“He said when the second child came, everything would begin again.”
“What does that mean?”
My mother handed me an old photograph.
My father.
Evelyn.
Three years earlier.
I stared.
They had met before Evelyn met me.
I looked at her.
“You knew my father.”
Evelyn nodded.
“I met him when I was twenty-three.”
“Why?”
“He recruited me.”
“For what?”
“To protect Noah.”
I felt betrayed all over again.
“You knew him before me.”
“Yes.”
“And he planned our marriage?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
My mother interrupted.
“He did.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
My mother explained.
My father had arranged for Evelyn to enter my life.
Not as a random stranger.
As someone specifically selected to protect me.
He knew the Mercer network would come after Noah.
He knew another pregnancy would create leverage.
He wanted Evelyn near me.
I looked at my wife.
“Did you ever actually love me?”
She cried.
“Yes.”
“Or was I part of the plan?”
“You were never the plan.”
She stepped closer.
“You were the reason I stayed.”
I wanted to believe her.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
My father's voice came through.
“Julian.”
I couldn't speak.
“Dad?”
“I need you to listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“That doesn't matter.”
“What happened to Noah?”
“Your mother traded him.”
“I know.”
Silence.
Then he said:
“She traded him to keep the Mercer family from taking your unborn daughter.”
I felt sick.
“My daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she carries something they need.”
“What?”
“The same gene they used to control Noah.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“What gene?”
My father paused.
Then he said:
“A mutation that makes certain cancer drugs ineffective.”
I didn't understand.
He continued.
“They want to use the children to develop a treatment.”
“Then why kidnap them?”
“Because they believe children from your bloodline are the only viable subjects.”
I gripped the phone.
“Where is Noah?”
“I can tell you.”
“Then tell me.”
My father gave me an address.
A remote house outside Sacramento.
“Your son is there.”
I grabbed my jacket.
Then my father said:
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“Do not trust Claire.”
The call ended.
I looked at her.
She was standing behind me.
May you like
She had heard everything.
And she was smiling.
