Chapter 11 - The Mother Who Died Twice
I found Evelyn at Warehouse 4.
She didn't run when I pointed a gun at her.
“Tell me.”
She stood in the old office.
“Tell you what?”
“Your real name.”
Her expression hardened.
“Gabriel…”
“Don't call me that.”
She sighed.
“My name is Eleanor Bennett.”
My mother's name.
The name I'd buried six years ago.
I couldn't breathe.
“You've been alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“By lying to me?”
“I've lied to everyone.”
“You let me bury you.”
“I had to disappear.”
“For what?”
“Because the people controlling your company wanted me dead.”
“You're one of them.”
Eleanor looked toward the ledger.
“I started it.”
I lowered the gun slightly.
“What?”
“I built the network.”
My hands shook.
“My father fought it.”
“He betrayed me.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed he could control what I'd created.”
She walked to the window.
“Daniel was supposed to inherit everything.”
“He's my brother.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you abandon him?”
“I didn't.”
She looked at me.
“He abandoned me.”
Then she told me the truth.
Daniel had been trained from childhood to become the heir.
I had been the son my father wanted.
Daniel had been the son my mother wanted.
Two boys.
Two futures.
One company.
It ended with my father choosing me.
My mother never forgave him.
The night my father died, Daniel carried out the shooting.
But the gunshot wasn't what killed him.
My father survived.
For forty-seven minutes.
Long enough to tell Teresa what had happened.
Long enough to identify the real person behind the plot.
My mother.
Teresa had witnessed everything.
Then Eleanor disappeared.
Daniel disappeared.
And Teresa stayed beside me.
Because she had promised my father she would keep me alive.
I felt sick.
“Why Chloe?”
Eleanor's eyes changed.
“Because Chloe has what you don't.”
“What?”
“Your father's blood isn't what made him dangerous.”
She pointed at the ledger.
“His memory was.”
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father kept everything in his head.”
“Names?”
“Codes.”
She took out a file.
Inside was a psychological assessment of me.
I read it.
My childhood.
My ability to remember numbers.
Routes.
License plates.
Faces.
I understood.
My father had taught me patterns without telling me why.
He had been preparing me to inherit the network.
Not the company.
The network.
Eleanor smiled sadly.
“Every code in that ledger is incomplete.”
“Because the rest is in my head.”
“Yes.”
“And Chloe?”
“Your daughter learned the patterns from you.”
I stared.
“She's eleven.”
“She notices everything.”
That was when I remembered Chloe washing clothes.
Not random clothes.
My winter coat.
My father's jacket.
The exact things containing details I'd unconsciously taught her.
Eleanor stepped closer.
“Daniel took her because he thinks she knows the final code.”
“He's wrong.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He isn't.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Daniel.
“Bring the ledger to the old rail yard.”
“Where is Chloe?”
A pause.
Then I heard her.
“Dad!”
“Chloe!”
Daniel laughed.
“Your daughter has a message for you.”
Chloe's voice trembled.
“Dad, don't trust the woman with the red hair.”
The call ended.
I slowly turned toward Eleanor.
She was already gone.
On the floor lay one final photograph.
It showed Teresa.
Holding a newborn Chloe.
May you like
And standing behind her was Daniel.
The date was eleven years ago.
