Chapter 6 - My mother had always been the gentlest person in my childhood.She baked cinnamon bread on Sundays.

She sang while watering flowers.

She never raised her voice.

The woman on the television looked nothing like her.

She looked cold.

Focused.

Dangerous.

And apparently capable of helping my husband escape custody.

“I don't believe it,” I said.

Marcus looked at me.

“Belief isn't relevant anymore.”

He placed a tablet on the table.

“We need evidence.”

I replayed the courthouse footage.

My mother appeared behind Daniel.

Then disappeared around a corner.

Seconds later, Daniel and the officer turned toward a restricted hallway.

The security cameras went black.

Two minutes later, Daniel was gone.

I watched the footage again.

“Stop.”

Marcus paused.

“Her shoes.”

“What?”

“My mother always wore flat shoes.”

He looked at the screen.

“She isn't wearing them.”

Her shoes were black leather with a silver buckle.

“She was wearing heels.”

Marcus frowned.

“That matters?”

“It does.”

My mother had injured her ankle years before I was born.

She never wore heels.

Not once.

I replayed the footage.

There was something else.

Her hair.

Too dark.

Too short.

I zoomed in.

My pulse rose.

“That isn't my mother.”

Marcus leaned closer.

“Then who?”

I answered.

“Victoria.”

He stared.

“Victoria used a wig.”

I pointed at the screen.

“The silver buckle.”

Marcus opened the photograph from the hotel.

Victoria wore the same shoes.

“She helped Daniel escape.”

“Maybe.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“Why would she?”

We had no answer.

Then my father's secure line rang.

Marcus answered.

It was my father.

“Edward?”

He looked relieved.

“Where are you?”

My father's voice was urgent.

“Emily, don't go back to the house.”

I stiffened.

“Why?”

“Because it's being watched.”

“By whom?”

“Everyone.”

Marcus put the call on speaker.

“What happened to Roland?”

My father went quiet.

“Roland knew the identity of the person behind everything.”

“Who?”

“He was going to tell Emily.”

“Who?”

My father finally answered.

“Patricia.”

I felt my stomach drop.

“My mother-in-law?”

“She is not Daniel's victim.”

Marcus asked:

“Is she the mastermind?”

“No.”

“Then what is she?”

My father took a long breath.

“She was part of it before Daniel was born.”

The room went silent.

“That doesn't make sense.”

“She knew your family before she married into it.”

Marcus frowned.

“How?”

My father said:

“Patricia was your father's secretary.”

I froze.

“My father didn't have a secretary named Patricia.”

“He did.”

“Why don't I remember her?”

“Because she disappeared from your father's records.”

“Who erased her?”

My father didn't answer.

Then we heard something.

A metallic click.

A second voice.

Someone was in the room with him.

“Dad?”

Silence.

“Dad?”

A man's voice came through the speaker.

“Hello, Emily.”

My blood ran cold.

Daniel.

He laughed softly.

“You always did ask too many questions.”

Marcus immediately started tracing the call.

“Where are you?”

Daniel ignored him.

“I have something you want.”

“What?”

“Your mother.”

I stopped breathing.

“She's alive?”

“She is.”

“Where?”

“You'll find out.”

“What do you want?”

“I want the red folder.”

“I don't have it.”

“You're lying.”

Daniel's voice became quieter.

“Your father gave you the folder. Give it back.”

“Why?”

“Because it contains the only thing that can destroy all of us.”

“Who is us?”

He paused.

Then:

“That's the problem, Emily.”

“What?”

“I'm no longer sure.”

The call ended.

Marcus stared at the tracker.

“Got him.”

He looked up.

“Industrial district.”

I stood.

“Let's go.”

“No.”

“Marcus.”

“We call the police.”

“He has my mother.”

“You don't know that.”

“I know enough.”

Marcus blocked the door.

“We're not walking into a trap.”

I looked at him.

“Then what do we do?”

He pulled up another file.

“Your father mentioned an old property.”

“What property?”

“Harper Warehouse 12.”

I frowned.

“That place hasn't existed in years.”

“It does.”

He showed me satellite imagery.

Warehouse 12.

Still standing.

And registered to a company I had never heard of.

Its owner:

V-17 Holdings.

We drove there after dark.

The building was abandoned.

At least from the outside.

Marcus found a side entrance.

Inside, we discovered hundreds of boxes.

Financial records.

Property deeds.

Photographs.

And a wall covered with names.

One was circled in red.

Daniel Harper.

Another.

Victoria Vance.

Another.

Patricia Harper.

Then mine.

Emily Harper.

Under my name was a handwritten date.

The date I married Daniel.

And beneath that:

PHASE TWO ACTIVATED.

Marcus stared at it.

“What is Phase Two?”

I stepped closer.

Another note was pinned beneath my name.

When she activates the trust, bring her to the vault.

My throat tightened.

“What vault?”

Then a light flicked on above us.

A voice came from the darkness.

“My father's vault.”

I turned.

Patricia stood there.

Holding a gun.

And she wasn't alone.

Behind her stood Daniel.

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He smiled.

“Welcome home, Emily.”