CHAPTER 4: THE MAN IN THE HIDDEN ROOM
The nursery door clicked shut behind us.
Locked.
I turned toward it.
Adrian was standing beside the handle, staring at it as though he had never seen the mechanism before.
“Did you lock that?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Eleanor suddenly backed away from the hidden passage.
For the first time since I had known her, she looked afraid.
Not angry.
Not calculating.
Afraid.
Claire noticed.
“Grandma?”
Eleanor didn't answer.
I pulled both daughters closer.
The newborn began crying.
Claire grabbed my dress.
“Mommy, don't let him take us.”
I looked at her.
“Who?”
“The man downstairs.”
My heart stopped.
“Your grandfather?”
Claire nodded.
“He said I wasn't supposed to call him Grandpa.”
“Then what did he call himself?”
She whispered,
“Mr. Whitmore.”
I stared at Adrian.
He looked like he'd been punched.
“That's impossible.”
Claire shook her head.
“He comes at night.”
“How often?”
“Sometimes once a week.”
“And what does he do?”
She hesitated.
“He asks about the baby.”
My arms tightened around my newborn.
“What baby?”
“The baby Mommy was supposed to have.”
A chill ran through me.
“Claire, what does that mean?”
She looked at my newborn.
“He said she was the key.”
The hidden passage suddenly creaked.
Someone was walking toward us.
Slow footsteps.
One.
Two.
Three.
I backed away.
Adrian stepped in front of me.
Eleanor whispered,
“Don't.”
He turned.
“What?”
“Don't go near that passage.”
“Why?”
Eleanor's face was pale.
“Because you don't know who's down there.”
A man's voice echoed through the darkness.
“I've been waiting six years for this moment.”
My blood ran cold.
Adrian stared into the passage.
“Dad?”
Silence.
Then the voice answered.
“You were always the disappointing son.”
Adrian's face collapsed.
The newborn cried louder.
I looked at him.
“Your father is alive.”
He didn't answer.
“Adrian.”
“I thought he was dead.”
Eleanor suddenly snapped,
“He was supposed to be.”
The words hung in the air.
I turned toward her.
“What did you just say?”
Eleanor looked at me.
“I said he was supposed to be dead.”
“Who tried to kill him?”
She said nothing.
I stepped closer.
“You knew.”
“I knew enough.”
“Six years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Before my daughter disappeared?”
Eleanor's silence answered for her.
I felt rage rising inside me.
“You all knew.”
Adrian looked at his mother.
“You told me Dad died.”
“I told you what you needed to believe.”
“Why?”
“Because your father was dangerous.”
A man's laugh echoed from the passage.
“Dangerous?”
The hidden door opened wider.
A figure stepped into the dim light.
An elderly man.
White hair.
Black suit.
A scar crossing his eyebrow.
My father.
My knees nearly gave out.
For years, I had stood beside his grave.
For years, I had believed I would never hear his voice again.
Yet here he was.
Alive.
Standing in front of me.
I whispered,
“Dad?”
He looked at me.
His expression was unreadable.
“Hello, Emma.”
I couldn't breathe.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He glanced at Eleanor.
“Because she would have killed you if she knew.”
Eleanor laughed bitterly.
“You're still lying to her.”
My father looked at her.
“And you're still protecting him.”
He pointed toward Adrian.
I looked at my husband.
“What is he talking about?”
Adrian shook his head.
“I don't know.”
My father smiled.
“You really don't.”
He stepped closer.
I instinctively moved backward.
“Stay away from my children.”
“Children?”
His eyes moved to the newborn.
“That's precisely the problem.”
I held her tighter.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“You've had six years.”
“I needed proof.”
“Proof of what?”
He looked at Claire.
Then at the baby.
“Which one of them is mine?”
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
“What?”
My father looked at me.
“Six years ago, your daughter wasn't the only baby born that night.”
I shook my head.
“You said I had twins.”
“I said you gave birth to twins.”
“What's the difference?”
His eyes hardened.
“One of those children was not Adrian's.”
I felt like the floor disappeared beneath me.
“No.”
My father continued.
“Your pregnancy wasn't accidental.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Stop.”
My father ignored him.
“Someone deliberately made sure you became pregnant.”
I stared at my husband.
“Adrian?”
He shook his head.
“I swear I didn't know.”
My father laughed.
“That's because you were never supposed to know.”
Then he reached inside his jacket.
I tensed.
He pulled out a small envelope.
Not red.
Not sealed.
Old.
Worn.
He handed it to me.
“This is the original birth report.”
I opened it.
My hands shook.
Two babies.
Two heartbeats.
Two birth weights.
Everything matched the records Dr. Hayes had shown me.
Then I reached the final page.
There was a handwritten note.
I recognized the handwriting.
My father's.
IF BOTH CHILDREN SURVIVE, THE TRUST WILL TRANSFER.
Below that was another sentence.
IF ONLY ONE SURVIVES, CONTROL REMAINS WITH THE WHITMORE FAMILY.
I looked up.
“What trust?”
My father didn't answer.
Adrian did.
“The Whitmore inheritance.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You knew.”
“I knew about the trust.”
“But not about Claire?”
He lowered his eyes.
“No.”
My father laughed.
“That's not true.”
Adrian's face hardened.
“Don't.”
“You knew she was alive.”
“I found out later.”
“When?”
Adrian said nothing.
My father stepped toward him.
“Tell your wife.”
“Dad.”
“Tell her.”
Adrian finally looked at me.
“Three years ago.”
My heart broke again.
“You knew three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I laughed.
“You were protecting me?”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
I pointed at Claire.
“You let me mourn her while you knew she was alive.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
He looked at my father.
“Of him.”
My father smiled.
“Good.”
Suddenly, a loud crash came from downstairs.
Then shouting.
Then several gunshots.
Claire screamed.
I dropped to my knees and covered both children.
Adrian pulled out his phone.
“What is happening?”
Eleanor looked toward the door.
“They found us.”
“Who?”
She didn't answer.
Another gunshot echoed through the mansion.
My father remained completely calm.
I stared at him.
“Who is downstairs?”
He looked at me.
“The people who have been searching for your daughters.”
My stomach twisted.
“Why?”
“Because your daughters are worth more alive than dead.”
I looked at the newborn.
“What does that mean?”
My father finally revealed the truth.
“The Whitmore trust isn't worth millions.”
He paused.
“It's worth twelve billion dollars.”
I froze.
“And whoever controls the twins…”
He looked at Claire.
“…controls all of it.”
The nursery lights suddenly flickered.
Then every phone in the room buzzed simultaneously.
Adrian checked his screen.
His face turned white.
“What?”
I looked at him.
He slowly showed me the message.
ONE TWIN HAS BEEN FOUND.
THE OTHER MUST BE RECOVERED BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
Then another message appeared.
WE KNOW WHERE THEY ARE.
A third message followed.
WE ARE COMING UP.
Footsteps thundered below us.
Not one person.
Not two.
Dozens.
My father grabbed my arm.
“We have three minutes.”
“Three minutes for what?”
“To get your daughters out of this house.”
“Where?”
He pointed toward the hidden passage.
“There's a car waiting beneath the mansion.”
I looked at him suspiciously.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don't.”
He opened the passage.
“But if you stay here, you won't get the chance to find out.”
Claire grabbed my hand.
“Mommy.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She pointed toward the newborn.
“There's something you need to know about her.”
“What?”
Claire's voice dropped to a whisper.
“She's not the baby they were looking for.”
My father froze.
Adrian stared at Claire.
“What did you say?”
Claire looked at me.
“Grandma told me the wrong baby was taken.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“Then where is the real baby?”
Claire pointed toward the nursery wall.
Behind us.
“She's still here.”
A faint cry suddenly came from inside the wall.
Not from the hidden passage.
From behind the bookshelf.
A newborn's cry.
Everyone froze.
I stared at my father.
Then Adrian.
Then Eleanor.
There was another baby.
May you like
Inside the wall.
And someone had been keeping her there.
