Chapter 12 - THE MOTHER WHO WASN'T DEADWe traced the broadcast to an abandoned television station outside the city.

By dawn, my father had assembled a tactical team.

Daniel insisted on coming.

I nearly refused.

Then he showed me the photograph.

My mother.

Alive.

Her face looked frightened.

Samuel stood behind her.

Vanessa beside him.

I stared.

“Where was this taken?”

“Two hours ago.”

Dad looked at the building map.

“They're moving.”

“Then we move faster.”

We entered through the rear.

The station was empty.

Too empty.

My father raised his hand.

Everyone stopped.

A television turned on by itself.

Vanessa appeared.

“Welcome.”

I stepped forward.

“Where is my mother?”

“In the studio.”

We followed the voice.

The main studio doors opened.

My mother was sitting in a chair.

Alive.

Older.

Terrified.

I ran to her.

“Mom!”

She stood.

I hugged her.

She cried into my shoulder.

“I knew you'd come.”

Dad remained frozen.

Mom looked at him.

“You finally told her.”

He nodded.

“I had to.”

Mom turned toward me.

“Claire, there isn't much time.”

I held her.

“Tell me everything.”

She glanced toward the cameras.

“Samuel isn't the one running this.”

Dad stiffened.

“What?”

Mom looked at him.

“He never was.”

Samuel stepped out of the shadows.

“No.”

He looked tired.

Not triumphant.

Broken.

I stared at him.

“You took Mom.”

“I protected her.”

“You kidnapped her.”

“She refused to come.”

Mom interrupted.

“He didn't hurt me.”

“Then who did?”

Silence.

The studio lights flickered.

A monitor turned on.

A man's face appeared.

Daniel's father.

Dead for twelve years.

Daniel stared.

“No.”

The recording began.

“I know you are watching.”

Daniel's father looked directly into the camera.

“My death was staged.”

Daniel stumbled backward.

“You're alive?”

The recording continued.

“I created the first Black Meridian network.”

My father's face changed.

“I used Victor Mercer.”

Samuel clenched his jaw.

“I used Arthur.”

Dad closed his eyes.

“And I used my own son.”

Daniel whispered:

“No…”

The recording showed files.

Payments.

Orders.

Assassinations.

Property acquisitions.

Natural disasters.

Everything.

Then one document appeared.

PROJECT HEIR.

My name was on it.

I stepped closer.

“What is this?”

Mom began to cry.

“Your father never knew.”

“My biological father?”

She nodded.

“Samuel.”

I turned.

“You knew?”

Samuel said:

“I found out the day you were born.”

“And you stayed away?”

“Because they threatened to kill you.”

My mother touched my face.

“I made your father promise to keep you hidden.”

I looked at Arthur.

He couldn't meet my eyes.

“You raised me.”

“Yes.”

“You lied.”

“Yes.”

“You loved me.”

His voice broke.

“With everything I had.”

A crash interrupted us.

Windows shattered.

Gunmen entered.

My father shouted:

“DOWN!”

Bullets tore through the studio.

The tactical team returned fire.

I pulled Mason behind a console.

Daniel shielded us.

Vanessa disappeared.

Samuel grabbed my mother.

Then a grenade rolled across the floor.

Dad saw it.

He jumped.

The explosion threw him across the room.

“DAD!”

I crawled toward him.

Blood covered his chest.

He opened his eyes.

“Get your mother out.”

“No.”

“Claire.”

“I won't leave you.”

He smiled.

“You always were stubborn.”

Then his eyes closed.

My mother screamed.

The lights went out.

When they came back, Samuel was gone.

So was Vanessa.

So was the evidence.

And on the studio wall, someone had written in red:

THE HEIR IS NOW THE TARGET.

Mason grabbed my hand.

“Mama.”

“What?”

He pointed behind me.

A tiny camera blinked.

Then the screen displayed a countdown.

My mother whispered:

“Run.”

“What?”

“The whole station is wired.”

Dad was still unconscious.

Daniel was bleeding.

Mason was beside me.

My mother was crying.

And I had less than one minute to decide whether to save my family…

or save the archive.

The countdown reached 45.

Then I heard a voice through the speakers.

Daniel's father's voice.

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“You cannot save everyone, Claire.”

The clock reached 44.