CHAPTER 9: BOTH GIRLS
“Both of them.”
The voice echoed through the darkness.
I felt Ava's fingers tighten around mine.
My mother pulled us toward the far side of the room.
“Don't move.”
Another gunshot exploded downstairs.
Glass shattered.
Someone screamed.
My uncle slammed the bedroom door shut and pushed a heavy cabinet against it.
“They're inside the house,” he whispered.
I stared at him.
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“The people who have been waiting for this night.”
“What people?”
He didn't answer.
I grabbed his jacket.
“You're going to tell me everything.”
He stared at me.
“If I tell you, you may not survive long enough to use it.”
“Try me.”
Ava suddenly whispered:
“They're not here for the money.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“What do you mean?”
She looked at the red rabbit in my hand.
“They're here for what's inside it.”
I stared at the toy.
“What?”
Ava took it from me.
She squeezed one of its ears.
A tiny click sounded.
The rabbit's head opened.
Inside was a small metal key.
My heart stopped.
My mother closed her eyes.
“You found it.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know if the key was still safe.”
I held it.
“What does it open?”
My mother looked at my uncle.
He finally spoke.
“A vault.”
“Where?”
“Under this house.”
Ava shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“It's not under this house.”
She pointed toward the floor.
“It's under the chapel.”
My mother stared at her.
“How do you know?”
“Emily told me.”
My heart pounded.
“Where is the chapel?”
My uncle answered.
“Behind the east wing.”
“Then we're going.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because the men downstairs are between us and the exit.”
I looked toward the door.
Then at the window.
“How many?”
“Six.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
I looked at my mother.
She was trembling.
“Can you walk?”
She nodded.
“Then we're leaving.”
My uncle grabbed my arm.
“You don't understand.”
I pulled away.
“I understand perfectly.”
“You have Sophie.”
I froze.
My daughter's name sliced through me.
“She isn't here.”
“No.”
My uncle looked at me.
“But they know she exists.”
My blood ran cold.
“How?”
He hesitated.
“Because they've been watching her.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“For months.”
I stared at him.
“You've been watching my daughter?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
He didn't answer.
My mother whispered:
“Your daughter was never supposed to be involved.”
I looked at her.
“But she is.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
My mother glanced at Ava.
“Because she has the same bloodline.”
I frowned.
“What bloodline?”
She whispered:
“Michael's.”
I couldn't breathe.
“You said Sophie was my daughter.”
“She is.”
“Then why would she have Michael's blood?”
My mother looked at me.
“Because Michael was your father.”
Silence.
I remembered the call.
The mysterious voice had said the same thing.
Michael was my father.
Not David.
Not the man I had been raised to believe was my father.
Michael.
And if Michael was my father...
Then Emily was my half-sister.
Ava was my niece.
And Sophie...
I looked at my daughter in my mind.
She was part of the same bloodline.
My mother continued:
“Your father left more than money.”
“What?”
“A genetic trust.”
I stared at her.
“A what?”
“Michael's family had a private inheritance system. It wasn't just financial. Certain assets could only be accessed by direct descendants.”
My uncle nodded.
“The vault.”
“The key.”
“The memory card.”
“The necklace.”
Everything suddenly connected.
The necklace wasn't valuable because of the diamond.
It was valuable because it contained the location of the vault.
And the key hidden inside Emily's rabbit was the second piece.
“What is inside the vault?”
My mother looked at me.
“Proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Who killed Michael.”
I froze.
“You said David killed him.”
“I said that's what we believed.”
My uncle looked toward the door.
“There's more.”
“What?”
“The man who called you.”
My uncle's voice dropped.
“He was the one who killed Michael.”
I stared at him.
“Who is he?”
“He worked for your father.”
“David?”
“No.”
He looked at my mother.
“Michael.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“He was Michael's closest friend.”
“Stop.”
“He betrayed him.”
“Stop!”
My mother screamed.
The room went silent.
Then footsteps sounded outside.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Someone was walking upstairs.
My uncle raised a finger.
“Quiet.”
The footsteps stopped outside our door.
A man's voice spoke.
“I know you're in there.”
Nobody moved.
“Give me the key.”
Silence.
“I don't want to hurt anyone.”
I almost laughed.
“Then why are you shooting at us?”
The man chuckled.
“Because you wouldn't listen.”
My uncle looked at me.
Then he pointed toward a hidden panel behind the wardrobe.
I moved it.
A narrow passage appeared.
My mother stared.
“You remember?”
“No.”
“I thought you would.”
My uncle pushed the door open.
“Go.”
“What about you?”
“I'll hold them.”
“No.”
“Go!”
The bedroom door suddenly shook.
Once.
Twice.
The men outside were trying to break it.
My mother pushed Ava into the passage.
I followed.
Then I looked back.
My uncle stood alone in the room.
He looked at me.
“I'm sorry.”
The door exploded inward.
Gunfire erupted.
I slammed the secret door shut.
Ava grabbed my hand.
“Run!”
We moved through the narrow passage.
My mother followed.
The tunnel smelled of dust and damp stone.
Then we reached a staircase.
It descended deep beneath the estate.
At the bottom stood an iron door.
A small keyhole.
I pulled out the key.
It fit perfectly.
The door opened.
Inside was a room filled with boxes.
Photographs.
Documents.
Hard drives.
Old newspapers.
And in the center...
A wooden table.
On it sat a single videotape.
A label was attached.
FOR MY DAUGHTERS.
My mother froze.
Ava stared.
I picked it up.
“Who recorded this?”
My mother whispered:
“Michael.”
My hands shook.
I found an old player beside the table.
It still worked.
I inserted the tape.
The screen flickered.
A man appeared.
I had never seen him before.
But something inside me recognized him.
Michael.
He looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, then I'm dead.”
Ava began crying.
The recording continued.
“I have two daughters.”
Michael paused.
“One of them will be told that she is my daughter.”
The room went silent.
“The other will be told she isn't.”
I stared at my mother.
Michael continued.
“I did this because someone inside my family is planning to kill them both.”
My heart pounded.
“There's only one person I trust.”
Michael leaned closer to the camera.
“Her name is Elena.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Then Michael said:
“If you're watching this, Elena, then you failed.”
My mother began sobbing.
Michael's expression became grave.
“Because one of my daughters is already in danger.”
The screen flickered.
A second video appeared.
A young version of me.
Eight years old.
Standing beside Emily.
Michael's voice played over the footage.
“She doesn't know yet.”
I stared at the screen.
Then he said:
“By the time she understands who she really is, the man who wants her dead will already be inside her family.”
The screen went black.
Ava whispered:
“Who?”
Then the screen turned on again.
A final image appeared.
A photograph.
My father.
My uncle.
Margaret's grandfather.
And another man.
I stared at the fourth face.
My breath caught.
I knew him.
He was the man who had called me.
The man who had ordered the attack.
The man who claimed to have killed Michael.
He was standing beside my father.
And beside them was someone else.
Someone I had never expected to see.
Margaret.
Not as an adult.
As a child.
She was standing there holding the hand of the mysterious man.
I looked at my mother.
“What does this mean?”
She didn't answer.
Ava suddenly pointed toward the photograph.
“Look.”
Behind Margaret stood another child.
A little girl.
I stared.
The girl had my face.
My mother's eyes.
And Emily's smile.
My heart stopped.
There weren't two girls.
There were three.
And Michael's voice returned from the tape:
“Whatever happens, never let them find the third daughter.”
The lights in the vault suddenly went out.
Then the iron door slammed shut.
Someone outside whispered:
“We found them.”
My mother grabbed my hand.
May you like
And I realized the vault had only one entrance.
There was nowhere left to run.
