Chapter 6 - The Door With My Name On ItThe evidence was hidden inside the one place I had sworn never to return.
Daniel was released under one condition.
He would lead us to the evidence.
Nathaniel didn't trust him.
Neither did I.
But Daniel knew something we didn't.
He knew where Blackridge had hidden the original trust documents.
We drove back to Wyoming.
Not to the ballroom.
Not to Grant's office.
To my old childhood home.
I had never remembered the address.
Yet when the iron gates opened, something deep inside me twisted.
“I've been here.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“This was your mother's last residence.”
The house was abandoned.
Windows boarded.
Garden overgrown.
I stepped inside.
Dust floated through the sunlight.
Every footstep felt familiar.
A staircase.
A hallway.
A small room at the end.
I stopped.
“This was my bedroom.”
Daniel looked at me.
“You remember?”
“No.”
But I knew.
I touched the door.
There was a tiny carving beneath the handle.
A flower.
My mother used to draw that flower on every birthday card.
I pushed the door open.
Nothing.
Bed.
Desk.
Wardrobe.
Then I noticed the floor.
One board was newer than the others.
Nathaniel crouched.
He lifted it.
Beneath it was a small brass box.
My pulse raced.
There was no keyhole.
Only a fingerprint scanner.
Nathaniel looked at me.
“Your mother designed this.”
“How do I open it?”
“Try.”
I pressed my thumb against it.
A click.
The box opened.
Inside was a single envelope.
My name was written across it.
For Emily, when she is old enough to survive the truth.
I opened it.
My mother's letter began:
My dearest Emily,
If you are reading this, then I failed to keep the darkness away from you.
I stopped.
Tears blurred the words.
She wrote about my father.
His name was Alexander Holloway.
Grant's older brother.
The rightful heir.
He had discovered what Blackridge was doing and decided to expose it.
He trusted his brother.
Grant betrayed him.
My father was murdered.
My mother escaped with me.
Then came the part that made my hands shake.
The trust had not been hidden in Wyoming.
It had been hidden in Pinehaven.
But not in the cabin.
In something Nathaniel owned.
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
He read the letter.
His expression changed.
“My mother knew you,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“She knew you'd find me.”
“Yes.”
“She knew you'd protect me.”
He was silent.
I looked back at the letter.
There was one final line.
Do not let Nathaniel open the vault alone.
I frowned.
“Why?”
Nathaniel didn't answer.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Because your mother didn't trust you with him.”
“What?”
Daniel pointed to another sentence.
I reread it.
Nathaniel's father knew the truth.
I looked at Nathaniel.
“What did your father know?”
His jaw tightened.
“Too much.”
“About my family?”
“Yes.”
“About Alexander?”
“Yes.”
“About my mother's death?”
Nathaniel's eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
I stepped backward.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“For how long?”
“Years.”
“Years?”
He came toward me.
“I was trying to prove it.”
I shook my head.
“You keep deciding what I deserve to know.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Stop saying that.”
Silence.
Then Daniel spoke.
“There's something else.”
Nathaniel turned sharply.
Daniel looked at me.
“The vault isn't the evidence.”
“What is it?”
Daniel swallowed.
“It's the witness.”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
We all froze.
Nathaniel drew his gun.
“There's someone in the house.”
A woman's voice came from the hallway.
“Emily?”
My blood ran cold.
I knew that voice.
It was impossible.
I hadn't heard it in years.
Nathaniel looked at me.
“Who is that?”
I couldn't answer.
May you like
Because my dead mother's voice whispered again:
“Emily, sweetheart.”
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