Chapter 6 - What Happened to Edward MercerThe image burned into my mind.
My father's face.
My grandfather on the floor.
Blood near his head.
I wanted to look away.
I couldn't.
Quinn stared at the timestamp.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“The date.”
“What about it?”
“Your grandfather supposedly died three weeks later.”
Nathan looked at him.
“So?”
“This photo was taken before that.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Quinn opened another file.
Medical records.
A death certificate.
Then another photograph.
My grandfather entering the house.
Alive.
After the date on the first image.
My stomach twisted.
“So the photo isn't proof he died that night.”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“An attack.”
Quinn opened the audio attached to the photograph.
My father's voice filled the room.
“You were supposed to stay out of my accounts.”
Grandfather answered.
“You stole from your own company.”
“I protected it.”
“You endangered people.”
“People forget.”
“I won't.”
A chair scraped.
Then my grandfather shouted.
“You think you're untouchable because you buy everyone around you.”
My father's voice became cold.
“I don't buy people.”
A pause.
“I buy silence.”
The recording ended.
Nathan looked sick.
“But Grandpa survived.”
“Yes,” Quinn said.
“For how long?”
My mother whispered.
“Three weeks.”
I turned toward her.
“You knew.”
She cried.
“He came to me after that.”
“Where?”
“She took him to a private clinic,” Quinn said.
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because I arranged it.”
My father hadn't killed my grandfather.
Not then.
But he had tried.
And the real mystery became worse.
“Who finished it?”
Nobody answered.
A noise came from upstairs.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
My mother grabbed my arm.
“He's here.”
Quinn shut down the monitors.
“Everyone out.”
We moved toward the staircase.
The footsteps stopped.
Then a man's voice echoed from the hallway.
“You always were a curious child.”
My father.
I froze.
He stepped into view.
He wasn't alone.
Two men stood behind him.
Both wearing dark coats.
Nathan whispered, “Who are they?”
Quinn's hand moved toward his weapon.
My father smiled.
“No guns.”
One of the men raised his phone.
“Federal investigators are on their way.”
My father looked at me.
“You wanted truth.”
He opened his arms.
“Here it is.”
Quinn didn't move.
“You planted the evidence.”
My father laughed.
“You still think this is about evidence.”
He looked at my mother.
“No.”
Then Nathan.
“No.”
Then me.
“This is about inheritance.”
I frowned.
“What inheritance?”
He smiled.
“Your grandfather left something to all three of his children.”
“We're not all his children.”
My father's smile disappeared.
I stared at him.
“What did you just say?”
My mother went completely still.
Nathan looked between them.
“Dad?”
My father turned toward the door.
“One day, you will understand why your grandfather chose you.”
“Chose me for what?”
He stopped.
Then said quietly,
“To decide who lives with the truth.”
He left.
The two men remained.
Quinn stepped toward them.
“Who are you?”
One of them showed a badge.
“Federal security.”
Quinn checked it.
His face went hard.
“Fake.”
The man drew a gun.
Everything happened at once.
Quinn shoved me to the floor.
A shot tore through the ceiling.
Nathan dragged our mother behind the server rack.
Quinn fired back.
The room exploded into noise.
Then one of the machines sparked.
The emergency system activated.
A voice came through the speakers.
ARCHIVE LOCKDOWN.
The steel door slammed shut.
We were trapped.
And the man outside shouted one sentence before disappearing.
May you like
“Find the girl. She's the key.”
Everyone looked at me.
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