Chapter 6 - The room went silent.Nobody breathed.
Richard stood outside the door.
How had he found us?
I looked at Claire.
She was already moving.
“Back exit.”
Evelyn grabbed my arm.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“What about the baby?”
“I'll walk.”
Claire opened a concealed panel behind a bookcase.
A narrow passage appeared.
I couldn't help staring.
“You've had a secret tunnel?”
“Not exactly,” she said.
“We're rich. Rich people build strange things.”
We moved quickly.
Behind us, the front door exploded inward.
Wood shattered.
Richard's security team entered.
“Search everything!”
We reached the underground garage.
A black SUV waited.
Claire started the engine.
We sped away.
As we turned onto the highway, my phone rang.
Richard.
I stared at the screen.
Claire said, “Don't answer.”
I did.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then his voice.
“You're alive.”
No surprise.
No panic.
Only relief.
The kind a hunter feels when he realizes the animal escaped the trap.
I said nothing.
Richard continued.
“I don't understand.”
“You pushed me.”
He laughed softly.
“You've always been dramatic.”
My hands trembled.
“You tried to kill me.”
“If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead.”
“You're insane.”
“I needed you gone.”
“Why?”
He didn't answer.
Instead he asked:
“Where's the ring?”
I looked down.
He knew.
“You took everything from me,” he said.
“What?”
“My birthright.”
“This has nothing to do with money.”
“Exactly.”
His voice became colder.
“You've been told lies your entire life.”
“By whom?”
“Your father.”
The line went silent.
Then Richard said:
“You don't know what your father built.”
I answered:
“Then tell me.”
He laughed.
“I'd rather show you.”
The call ended.
Five seconds later, Claire's phone rang.
She answered.
“What?”
Her expression changed.
She handed me the phone.
A live video was playing.
Our mansion.
A man stood in my bedroom.
Holding a small metal box.
He placed it on my bed.
Then he opened it.
Inside was a stack of old photographs.
My father.
Nora.
Richard's father.
And a woman I had never seen.
Claire whispered:
“Who's that?”
I looked closer.
My mother.
She was standing beside Nora.
My mother had been dead for twelve years.
But the photograph looked older.
Much older.
On the back was a date.
JUNE 14, 1998.
I was born in 2006.
That meant the photograph had been taken eight years before me.
A second photograph appeared.
My mother was pregnant.
My stomach tightened.
Then I noticed something.
She wasn't smiling.
She was crying.
Underneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
WE WERE NEVER TOLD THE WHOLE TRUTH.
Claire paused the video.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
Evelyn looked at the image.
Then she whispered something that made me turn.
“She wasn't pregnant with you.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Your mother lost a baby in 1999.”
I shook my head.
“That isn't in any family record.”
“Because it wasn't supposed to be.”
“Then why does she have this?”
Evelyn opened another file.
She pulled out a hospital document.
Patient:
Sophia Hayes.
Pregnancy:
Successful delivery.
Date:
November 1999.
I couldn't speak.
“That's impossible.”
Evelyn looked at me.
“Your family told you that you were your mother's first child.”
“Yes.”
“You weren't.”
I stared at the page.
“Who was the baby?”
Evelyn said nothing.
I asked again.
“Who?”
The answer came from the video.
Richard had returned to the camera.
He looked directly into the lens.
“Hello, wife.”
I froze.
“I know you're watching this.”
He held up another photograph.
A baby.
A newborn.
Wrapped in a white blanket.
On the blanket was a small blue hospital tag.
The name on it was visible.
ELENA HAYES.
My birth name.
My heart stopped.
“What is this?”
Richard smiled.
“That is the Blue File.”
He placed the photograph down.
Then he said:
May you like
“Your father stole you.”
The video ended.
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