Chapter 10 - THE COUNTDOWNThe next morning, the city seemed different.
Every car felt suspicious.
Every stranger looked familiar.
Christopher worked through the night.
Investigators monitored Jared's accounts.
Police watched the family apartment.
But Jared disappeared.
Susan disappeared.
Gemma and Ryan vanished too.
Even Dwight's phone was shut off.
At 8:00 a.m., my bank accounts were frozen.
At 8:07, three shell companies transferred millions.
At 8:12, someone attempted to access the trust.
At 8:19, my lawyer received a death threat.
Then the FBI arrived.
They told me the network was collapsing.
Someone inside was cooperating.
We just didn't know who.
At 9:30, Ashley sent a message from the hospital.
I know who.
I called her.
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Your mother.”
I closed my eyes.
“She contacted you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before I was attacked.”
“What did she say?”
Ashley hesitated.
“She told me to stop trusting Dwight.”
My heart sank.
“Why?”
“She said Dwight had one final job.”
“What job?”
“To betray you.”
I didn't understand.
“How?”
“He was ordered to hand you over.”
“To whom?”
Ashley swallowed.
“Nathan Hale.”
The fake attorney.
The man behind the network.
I felt sick.
“Where is Dwight?”
“I don't know.”
At exactly 10:00 a.m., my phone rang.
Dwight.
“Elizabeth.”
I said nothing.
“I need you to come somewhere.”
“Why?”
“Because they're coming for you.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You've been saying that for days.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You let your father hit me.”
“I know.”
“You let your family humiliate me.”
“I know.”
“You married me for my money.”
“Yes.”
“Then why should I trust you?”
He was silent.
Then he said:
“Because if I hadn't married you, you'd already be dead.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Your father didn't fake his death because of money.”
“Then why?”
“Because someone put a contract on you.”
I couldn't speak.
“Who?”
“Your own mother.”
I felt like the floor disappeared.
“That’s a lie.”
“I wish it were.”
“Why would she want me dead?”
“She doesn't.”
“Then why did you say that?”
“Because the person pretending to be your mother isn't your mother.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
Dwight continued.
“The woman you believe is your mother died years ago.”
I stared at the wall.
“Then who is the woman in the recordings?”
“Someone who has been impersonating her.”
My mind raced.
It was impossible.
Too many lies.
Too many names.
Too many versions of the truth.
I asked the question that mattered.
“Where are my parents?”
Dwight answered:
“Your father is alive.”
“And my mother?”
Silence.
“Dwight.”
“She isn't.”
The line went dead.
Then another message arrived.
A photo.
My father.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
Behind him stood Jared.
And beside Jared was a woman.
Her face was hidden.
But I recognized the blue scarf.
My mother's scarf.
The caption beneath the image read:
Come alone, Elizabeth.
May you like
And for the first time, I realized the most terrifying possibility.
The person I had been calling “Mom” might have been the mastermind all along.
