Chapter 8: The Ghost in the Records
The inside of the SUV fell silent.
Rain pounded against the windows as Manhattan's skyline emerged through the gray morning haze.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Marcus finally broke the silence.
"Run the DNA again."
Daniel looked up from the tablet.
"I already requested a second analysis."
"And?"
"They confirmed it."
Dominic stared through the windshield.
"My mother was buried."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"I attended the funeral."
"So did I."
Daniel cleared his throat.
"There may not have been a body."
Dominic turned sharply.
"What?"
Daniel brought up an old newspaper clipping.
"Twenty-three years ago, the official report said Isabella Vale died in a house fire."
Marcus frowned.
"I remember."
Daniel zoomed in on the article.
"The report also says..."
"...the fire destroyed the remains beyond identification."
Silence.
Dominic remembered standing beside a closed casket.
He had been fifteen years old.
His father had refused to let anyone open it.
He had accepted that grief without question.
Now...
Everything about that day felt different.
The convoy arrived beneath Grand Central Terminal.
Marcus deployed security around every entrance.
"Nobody goes near Locker 317 except us."
Dominic nodded.
He slipped the silver key into his pocket.
Hundreds of commuters passed overhead, completely unaware that beneath one of the busiest stations in America, a decades-old secret waited to be uncovered.
They found the locker quickly.
Number 317.
Old.
Rust-stained.
Untouched for years.
Marcus scanned it for explosives.
Nothing.
Dominic inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Slowly, he pulled the door open.
Inside sat only three items.
A leather journal.
A VHS cassette.
And a sealed envelope addressed in elegant handwriting.
To My Son.
Dominic's breathing stopped.
He recognized the handwriting instantly.
His mother's.
His hands trembled for the first time in years as he opened the envelope.
Inside was a single letter.
The paper had yellowed with age.
At the top, written in blue ink:
If you are reading this, then Nathan has failed... and I have run out of time.
Marcus looked away, giving Dominic privacy.
Dominic continued reading.
Dominic...
Everything you were told about our family is a lie.
Your father was never protecting us.
He was protecting Project Falcon.
I tried to take you away before they could make you one of them.
I failed.
Dominic's jaw tightened.
His father.
The legendary Victor Vale.
The man whose empire Dominic had inherited.
The man he had spent his entire life trying to honor.
The letter continued.
If Harper is with you...
Do not let them separate you.
She is the only proof left that Project Falcon can be destroyed.
Dominic skipped to the last page.
One sentence had been underlined three times.
Trust no one carrying the Falcon. Not even the ones who wear your name.
Marcus finally spoke.
"What does it mean?"
Dominic folded the letter carefully.
"It means my father wasn't the hero I believed he was."
Daniel looked toward the journal.
"There's more."
Dominic opened it.
The first pages were ordinary diary entries.
Then the writing changed.
Names.
Dates.
Children.
Code numbers.
Project Falcon.
It wasn't a diary anymore.
It was evidence.
Each child had a designation.
Alpha.
Beta.
Gamma.
Most names were crossed out in red.
Deceased.
Missing.
Transferred.
Then Dominic reached the final page.
Only one name remained untouched.
H-17
Status:
Active
Guardian:
Dominic Vale
Dominic felt a chill run down his spine.
Someone had updated the journal after it was written.
Recently.
Very recently.
Marcus lifted the VHS cassette.
"We'll need an old player."
Daniel smiled faintly.
"I brought one."
Twenty minutes later, they connected the portable VHS player inside the command vehicle.
The tape hissed.
Static filled the screen.
Then an image appeared.
A woman.
Dark hair.
Kind eyes.
She couldn't have been older than thirty-five.
Dominic forgot how to breathe.
His mother.
Alive.
She looked directly into the camera.
"If you're seeing this..."
"...then I couldn't stop them."
She smiled sadly.
"Dominic... you've grown up."
Tears formed in Marcus's eyes.
He had known Isabella too.
She continued.
"You're going to believe your father loved you."
"He did."
"But he loved his empire more."
She held up a tiny silver pendant.
The broken falcon.
"The people hunting Harper believe she's a weapon."
"They're wrong."
"She's a key."
Dominic leaned closer.
"A key to what?" he whispered.
As if she could hear him.
The recording continued.
"Only two children survived the Falcon Trials."
"One disappeared."
"The other..."
The image distorted.
Static.
The tape flickered violently.
Daniel hit the side of the player.
The picture returned for only a second.
Just enough to hear four words.
"...is closer than..."
Then...
Black.
The tape snapped.
The screen went dark forever.
Nobody spoke.
Marcus finally broke the silence.
"We lost the rest."
Dominic shook his head.
"No."
He replayed the last clear frame in his mind.
His mother hadn't been looking at the camera.
She had been looking...
At someone standing beside it.
Daniel's phone vibrated.
He answered immediately.
His expression changed.
"Sir..."
Dominic looked up.
"What now?"
"The estate."
Marcus stiffened.
"Harper?"
Daniel nodded slowly.
"They found where Mia hid her."
Dominic stood.
"Is she safe?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Yes..."
"But she wasn't alone."
"What do you mean?"
Daniel turned the screen around.
One of the estate guards had taken a photograph.
Harper stood inside the hidden chapel passage.
Holding hands...
With an elderly woman.
Gray hair.
Simple black dress.
Calm smile.
No one knew how she had entered the estate.
The security system had never detected her.
Dominic stared at the woman's face.
His pulse stopped.
Marcus whispered,
"It can't be..."
The woman in the photograph smiled directly at the camera.
Exactly the same smile from the VHS tape.
Exactly the same eyes.
Exactly the same face.
Older.
But unmistakable.
Isabella Vale.
His mother.
Alive.
May you like
And standing beside Harper.
End of Chapter 8
