Chapter 11 - The Hidden NameDarkness swallowed the room.

Gunfire erupted.

I grabbed Vanessa.

Andrew dragged Maria behind a steel table.

Someone fired from the corridor.

Then everything went silent.

Sebastian was gone.

Maria was shaking.

"Where did he go?"

Vanessa whispered.

"There's another exit."

She pointed to the wall.

We opened a hidden door.

A narrow passage led toward the surface.

We emerged behind the factory.

A car waited.

My father was inside.

Noah was safe.

But my mother was missing.

"Where is she?"

My father looked at me.

"Sebastian took her."

Andrew swore.

"We need to go back."

"No."

My father shook his head.

"He wants us to."

I looked at him.

"Then what do we do?"

He stared at the ledger.

"Find what he thinks doesn't exist."

We returned to Whitmore House.

My grandmother's room was still untouched.

I studied the broken mirror.

The frame.

The wall.

The floor.

Then Noah walked inside.

He was holding something.

"Dad gave me this."

It was a tiny brass box.

Andrew stared.

"Where did you get that?"

"From your hiding place."

Andrew looked confused.

"I never hid that."

Noah opened it.

Inside was a key.

And a small piece of paper.

One word.

ATTIC.

We climbed.

The attic had been sealed for decades.

Dust covered everything.

Old furniture.

Trunks.

Paintings.

At the back was a wooden chest.

The key fit.

Inside was a second ledger.

Older.

Bigger.

Bound in black leather.

Andrew turned the first page.

Names.

Payments.

Dates.

But the final page was handwritten.

It contained one name.

Not Sebastian.

Not my mother.

Not Vanessa.

My father.

I looked at him.

"Why is your name here?"

He stared.

"I don't know."

Andrew flipped the page.

There was another entry.

Directive approved by Daniel Whitmore.

Our father's name.

Then a date.

The date of the boating accident.

Andrew stepped back.

"You said you didn't order it."

"I didn't."

"Then why is your name here?"

Our father looked terrified.

"I don't know."

Noah suddenly pointed at the attic window.

"There's someone outside."

We turned.

A silhouette stood on the roof.

Then it disappeared.

My father grabbed the ledger.

"We leave now."

"Why?"

"Because Sebastian wasn't lying."

"About what?"

He looked at me.

"The accident."

A terrible silence followed.

"Your father's name wasn't forged."

I stared at him.

"He signed it."

"Who?"

Our father looked at Andrew.

"You."

Andrew froze.

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"What?"

"You signed your own death."