Chapter 3 - The Man Who Came Too LateDaniel finally confessed. Unfortunately, the truth was worse than the lie.
I stared at Daniel.
“No.”
He looked exhausted.
“Emily, listen to me.”
“You said Grant ordered the shooting.”
“I said I know who did.”
“You just named him.”
Daniel nodded.
Nathaniel moved between us.
“Explain.”
Daniel's eyes hardened.
“Grant wasn't supposed to kill Nathaniel tonight.”
My stomach twisted.
“What does that mean?”
“The shooter was supposed to miss.”
Silence.
Nathaniel's expression became colder.
Daniel continued.
“The plan was to create panic. During the blackout, someone was supposed to take Emily.”
My blood ran cold.
“Take me?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because of your mother.”
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“What do you know?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Enough to know I'm already dead.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Daniel pulled a small USB drive from his pocket.
He handed it to me.
“Your mother left something behind.”
I didn't take it.
Nathaniel did.
“Where?”
“The Blackridge archive.”
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed.
Daniel continued.
“Grant has been moving old records for months. Tonight's gala was the final opportunity to locate the original ledger.”
Nathaniel stared at him.
“You're working for Grant.”
Daniel flinched.
“I was.”
My heart cracked all over again.
“You were?”
Daniel looked at me.
“I was ordered to stay close to you.”
The room blurred.
“All those months?”
“Yes.”
“The coffee.”
“Yes.”
“The messages.”
“Yes.”
“The kiss.”
His face collapsed.
“That wasn't part of the assignment.”
I slapped him.
The sound echoed through the room.
Daniel didn't defend himself.
I hit his shoulder.
Then again.
“You used me.”
“I know.”
“You knew I loved you.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you loved me.”
His eyes filled with something that looked painfully real.
“I did love you.”
Nathaniel watched him with a dangerous stillness.
“You don't get to say that now.”
Daniel looked away.
“I didn't know what Grant wanted until six weeks ago.”
“What changed?”
Daniel reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a second photograph.
This one showed my mother standing beside Grant Holloway.
Behind them was a little girl.
Me.
Except I was perhaps five years old.
I stared.
“I never remember that.”
“Because Grant had your memories altered.”
I looked up sharply.
“What?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not literally. They moved you when you were six. New school. New documents. New city. Everyone around you was told your father had died and your mother had suffered a nervous breakdown.”
My breathing became shallow.
“My mother wasn't sick.”
“No.”
Daniel swallowed.
“She was hiding.”
Nathaniel took the photograph.
His eyes narrowed.
There was something written on the back.
A date.
And an address.
“Where is this?”
Daniel answered.
“An old logging camp near Pinehaven.”
Nathaniel immediately reached for his phone.
“No.”
I stood.
“I'm going.”
Nathaniel looked at me.
“You're staying here.”
“I've spent my entire life being told half-truths.”
“This isn't a game.”
“I know.”
“People are willing to kill you.”
“Then you need me alive.”
He stared at me.
I felt something shift behind his eyes.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“You're like her.”
“Like my mother?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“You'd rather walk into danger than live inside a lie.”
Daniel looked at Nathaniel.
“There's one more thing.”
Nathaniel's patience disappeared.
“What?”
Daniel's voice dropped.
“Grant knows about the baby.”
I frowned.
“What baby?”
Daniel looked at me.
“You.”
My blood ran cold.
“You weren't supposed to survive infancy.”
The room went silent.
Nathaniel's face hardened.
Then he turned to me.
“Pack a bag.”
“Why?”
“Because we're leaving Wyoming tonight.”
May you like
He picked up the photograph.
“We're going to Pinehaven.”
Related Stories
