Chapter 7 - The Room Rebecca Hid for Six YearsMy wife hadn't abandoned me. She had been building a case.
We returned to the estate before dawn.
Lucy slept in one of the upstairs rooms.
Hannah was in the guest bedroom with a doctor Rebecca trusted.
Michael was missing.
And I had seven days.
Rebecca sat across from me in the library.
“You owe me the truth.”
“I know.”
“Everything.”
She nodded.
“I never died.”
“I know that part.”
“I was followed after discovering the records.”
“What happened the night of the crash?”
“My car was forced off the road.”
“By my father?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know you survived?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Rebecca looked at the fireplace.
“One person.”
“Who?”
She handed me a key.
“You.”
I stared at it.
“What is this?”
“Your office.”
“My office has three locks.”
“Not the public one.”
She led me down the hallway.
Behind a painting was another door.
I had lived in that house for years and had never noticed it.
Inside was a small room.
No windows.
A desk.
Stacks of documents.
Recorders.
Photographs.
A map of Pennsylvania covered in red pins.
“What is this?”
“Everything I discovered.”
I walked toward the desk.
A folder bore my name.
Inside was a handwritten timeline.
1999: Daniel Mercer meets Hannah Parker.
2001: Lucy born.
2004: Mercer Foundation acquires Saint Agnes.
2008: Records altered.
2010: Thomas Mercer disappears from public view.
2017: Rebecca begins investigation.
2019: Rebecca's death faked.
2020-2026: Network continues.
My head spun.
“Why did you stay away from me?”
“Because they were watching you.”
“Who?”
She pointed to the map.
“Judges. Doctors. bankers. contractors. politicians.”
I looked at the names.
Some were dead.
Some were still alive.
Some were people I had donated money to.
Some had attended my company's charity galas.
The network wasn't hiding in the shadows.
It was standing in the middle of the room wearing expensive suits.
Then I noticed a photograph pinned in the center.
Lucy.
Beside her was a man I'd never met.
Under the photograph was one sentence:
THE REAL HEIR IS NOT LUCY.
I stared at Rebecca.
“Then who?”
She hesitated.
Before she could answer, the house alarm sounded.
Once.
Twice.
Then every light went out.
Lucy screamed upstairs.
I ran.
A window was broken in the hallway.
The bedroom was empty.
Lucy was gone.
Hannah was gone.
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
“Daniel.”
“No.”
“We need to leave.”
“No.”
She pointed toward the floor.
There were muddy footprints.
They led toward the library.
Toward the hidden staircase.
I followed them downstairs.
The footprints ended at the steel door.
On the floor was Lucy's teddy bear.
And taped to it was a note.
BRING THE ORIGINAL MERCER WILL TO SAINT AGNES BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
Rebecca read the note.
Her face went white.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“The original will determines who owns the network.”
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“And?”
“Daniel... your father left everything to someone who was never supposed to exist.”
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