Chapter 6 - The Photograph Michael Never Wanted Me to SeeMy brother had been there from the beginning.
Michael stared at the photograph.
“You need to understand.”
“I don't need to understand anything.”
I held it up.
“You were there.”
“I was seventeen.”
“You knew Hannah.”
“I knew Dad had people working for him.”
“You knew about Lucy.”
“I knew there was a baby.”
“That's not an answer.”
Rebecca stepped between us.
“Daniel.”
“No.”
I couldn't stop.
“Six years.”
I pointed at Michael.
“Six years you stood next to me while I believed my wife was dead.”
“I thought she was.”
“Then you found out.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
I laughed bitterly.
“By helping the people hunting a child?”
Michael flinched.
“I never wanted Lucy hurt.”
“Then where is she?”
He didn't answer.
Rebecca looked at him.
“Michael.”
He finally whispered:
“Hannah took Lucy to the old Saint Agnes property.”
I recognized the name.
A children's home closed fifteen years ago.
“Why would she go there?”
“Because Rebecca told her to.”
I turned toward my wife.
“Why?”
“Because the archives were never destroyed.”
We drove there in two cars.
Snow covered the road.
The old building stood beyond a broken gate.
The windows were black.
The doors chained.
We forced our way inside.
The basement smelled of mold.
There were old file cabinets.
Most were empty.
Then Lucy's voice echoed from a room at the far end.
“Mom?”
I ran.
Lucy stood beside Hannah.
Hannah was unconscious.
Two men had her pinned down.
The first raised a gun.
I stepped in front of Lucy.
“Move away from her.”
The man smiled.
“Mercer.”
He recognized me.
“You're not supposed to be here.”
“Neither are you.”
He glanced at Lucy.
“She was supposed to disappear tonight.”
My blood froze.
“Who ordered it?”
He said nothing.
Then Lucy whispered:
“Uncle Michael.”
I turned.
Michael stood in the doorway.
His face was devastated.
“I didn't order this.”
The gunman laughed.
“You didn't have to.”
He threw a folder onto the floor.
Michael's name was on it.
Payment records.
Transfers.
Dates.
Everything.
I looked at my brother.
“Did you pay them?”
Michael's voice cracked.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To make sure Lucy stayed alive.”
The gunman smiled.
“That isn't how the file reads.”
He fired.
The bullet shattered the light above us.
The room went dark.
I grabbed Lucy.
Rebecca pulled Hannah behind a cabinet.
Gunshots echoed.
Someone screamed.
Then silence.
When the emergency lights flickered back on, the two gunmen were gone.
So was Michael.
Only the folder remained.
I opened it.
The first page was a payment ledger.
The second page was a birth record.
The third page was a photograph.
Lucy at three years old.
And written beneath it:
SUBJECT: HEIR OF DANIEL MERCER
My hands shook.
Then I saw the final line.
TRANSFER DATE: OCTOBER 14, 2026
Today's date was October 7.
Seven days.
May you like
Someone intended to take Lucy in exactly one week.
And they had already scheduled where she was going.
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