Chapter 9 - Claire woke beneath a single hanging light.Her wrists were tied to a metal chair.
The room smelled of concrete.
Water dripped somewhere in the darkness.
A man stood in front of her.
Not Martin.
Not Dr. Shaw.
Not Thomas Bell.
Someone younger.
Claire stared at him.
“Who are you?”
He smiled.
“You've seen me before.”
Claire searched her memory.
“I don't think so.”
He leaned closer.
“At the Whitmore estate.”
Then it hit her.
The gardener.
He had worked there for eight months.
Quiet.
Always wearing a cap.
Claire whispered:
“You.”
“Finally.”
“Why?”
He removed the cap.
His hair was dark.
His eyes were cold.
“My name is Nicholas Vale.”
Claire shook her head.
“Martin's son?”
Nicholas smiled.
“That's what they told me.”
Claire's heart pounded.
“They?”
“Yes.”
He leaned against the wall.
“I was one of the seventeen.”
Claire stared.
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
“Why are you helping them?”
His smile disappeared.
“I'm not.”
He cut the ropes.
Claire stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a choice.”
“What choice?”
“Run, or learn the truth.”
Claire stood slowly.
“Why was I taken?”
Nicholas pointed toward a table.
On it was a small envelope.
Claire opened it.
Inside was the brass key.
Her face went cold.
“They took it from me.”
“No.”
Nicholas shook his head.
“I took it.”
“You?”
“You dropped it during the struggle.”
Claire stared.
“Then why bring me here?”
“Because the key doesn't open the bank vault.”
“What?”
Nicholas smiled.
“It opens something under the Whitmore estate.”
Claire remembered Emily's warning.
The estate.
The locked basement.
The room Daniel had never entered.
She looked up.
“What is down there?”
Nicholas hesitated.
“Proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Emily wasn't the first person they tried to kill.”
Claire's throat tightened.
“Who was?”
Nicholas handed her a photograph.
Claire looked down.
A little boy.
Maybe six years old.
Standing beside Emily.
She recognized the boy immediately.
Daniel's childhood photograph.
“No.”
Nicholas nodded.
“Daniel was a patient too.”
Claire stared.
“That's impossible.”
“He doesn't remember.”
“Why?”
“Because they erased his memory.”
Claire stepped backward.
“His own father?”
“Martin wanted both children under control.”
Claire looked at the photograph again.
Daniel and Emily.
Both smiling.
Both children.
Both victims.
Nicholas said quietly:
“Emily remembered first.”
Claire whispered:
“That is why they tried to kill her.”
“Exactly.”
“Why keep Daniel alive?”
“Because Martin needed an heir.”
Claire's blood ran cold.
“An heir to what?”
Nicholas looked toward the door.
“You're asking the wrong question.”
“What should I ask?”
“Why did Daniel's father choose Emily as his wife?”
Claire's face changed.
Nicholas continued.
“Because Emily wasn't brought into the family.”
“She was returned to it.”
Claire remembered Emily's terrified words.
I was never supposed to marry you.
Her pulse raced.
“Who is Emily's real father?”
Nicholas stared at her.
Then he said:
“Martin Whitmore.”
Claire felt the world tilt.
“That's impossible.”
Nicholas shook his head.
“No.”
He handed her another photograph.
It showed Emily as a teenager standing beside a woman.
Claire recognized the woman.
Daniel's mother.
Claire whispered:
“Emily and Daniel are…”
Nicholas nodded.
“They are half-siblings.”
Claire covered her mouth.
“No.”
“Martin had two families.”
Claire stepped backward.
“And he forced Daniel to marry Emily?”
“He manipulated both of them.”
“Why?”
“To consolidate everything.”
Claire looked sick.
“What happens if they find out?”
Nicholas's expression darkened.
“They already know.”
The door opened.
Martin Whitmore stood there.
Older.
Elegant.
Cold.
He looked at Claire.
“Good.”
Claire froze.
“You're alive.”
Martin smiled.
“I never died.”
He looked toward Nicholas.
“You've done well.”
Nicholas lowered his eyes.
Claire realized something.
Nicholas wasn't helping her.
He had delivered her.
Martin stepped closer.
“The key.”
Claire shook her head.
“You won't get it.”
Martin smiled.
“I don't need it.”
He held up his hand.
Another key hung from his fingers.
“The second one is already with Daniel.”
Claire stared.
“What second key?”
May you like
Martin leaned in.
“The one inside Emily's wedding ring.”
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