Chapter 9 - THE OTHER HEIRThe car fell silent.
"Another child?"
Richard nodded.
"Your half-brother."
"I don't have a brother."
"Your mother gave birth to a son one year before she had you."
I stared.
"Where is he?"
Richard looked at Flynn.
Flynn whispered:
"Dead."
I laughed.
It sounded hysterical.
"Everyone in my family is apparently dead until they aren't."
Richard shook his head.
"Your brother died."
"How?"
"Fire."
"How old?"
"Eight."
I looked at the letter again.
"If he was dead, why would my mother mention another heir?"
Richard hesitated.
"Because that's not the full story."
He pulled out a photograph.
A little boy.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
He looked strangely familiar.
I stared at his face.
"What's his name?"
Richard said:
"Alexander Hart."
"Where did he die?"
"New York."
"What year?"
"1998."
I looked at the photograph again.
Something was wrong.
The boy had a small scar above his eyebrow.
I touched my own forehead unconsciously.
Same place.
Same shape.
"Why does he look like me?"
Richard didn't answer.
Flynn did.
"Because he was your identical twin."
My breathing stopped.
I turned toward him.
"I had a twin?"
"You were both born together."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because the fire wasn't an accident."
Richard opened another file.
"Only one child was supposed to survive."
My blood turned cold.
"Which one?"
Richard looked at me.
"You."
The car went silent again.
Then I heard a quiet voice from beside me.
"Actually..."
Selina was crying.
"You weren't supposed to survive either."
Everyone turned toward her.
She looked at me.
"I found something in Victor's files."
She held out her phone.
A photograph appeared.
Two infants.
One with a hospital bracelet labeled MABEL HART.
The other labeled ALEXANDER HART.
And beneath them was a medical record.
I read the sentence.
Subject A transferred to private facility.
"Subject A?"
Selina nodded.
"Your brother."
I stared.
"Transferred?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Selina showed me another document.
The location was blacked out.
Only the initials remained.
B.L.
Black Ledger.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"He didn't die."
"No."
"Where is he?"
"We don't know."
Flynn leaned forward.
"We?"
Selina nodded.
"Victor thinks the Black Ledger lost him years ago."
I stared out the window.
My entire childhood had been built around a lie.
Then another question came.
"If my brother survived, why didn't he come looking for me?"
No one answered.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice spoke.
"Hello, sister."
I froze.
Everyone in the car stared at me.
"Who are you?"
The voice laughed.
"You already know."
I couldn't breathe.
"Alexander?"
"That was the name they gave me."
"Where are you?"
A pause.
"Watching you."
"Why?"
"Because I've spent twenty-two years waiting for you to find me."
My hands shook.
"What do you want?"
His voice became cold.
"I want what belongs to us."
"What?"
"The company."
I froze.
"You're the other heir."
"No."
He laughed softly.
"That's what you've been told."
"Then what are you?"
Silence.
Then:
"I'm the one who owns the Protocol."
The call ended.
A message appeared.
A location.
And a photograph.
It showed the interior of my childhood home.
On the wall was a photograph of my father.
Beside him stood my mother.
And between them was a young boy.
Not eight years old.
Not dead.
Aged approximately thirty.
Underneath the picture was a date.
TAKEN LAST MONTH.
My blood turned cold.
My brother had been alive.
And he had been living close enough to photograph my father's house.
May you like
But someone had written three words on the image.
HE KNOWS EVERYTHING.
