Chapter 4 - By sunrise, the estate had become a prison.Security doubled.
Phones were checked.
Vehicles were searched.
Every employee was questioned.
My father shut down three businesses before breakfast.
The city woke up to rumors.
The Bellweather incident had already leaked.
Photos of me covered social media.
“WHO IS THE MYSTERY CARTER GIRL?”
“MICHAEL CARTER'S SECRET DAUGHTER?”
“BILLIONAIRE HEIR HUMILIATED AT CHICAGO GALA.”
But none of those headlines scared me.
One did.
CARTER FAMILY WAR RETURNS.
The photograph of my mother had somehow reached the press.
And now strangers were discussing a woman I had been told was dead.
I found Daniel in the security room.
“Tell me something.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“Why were you at the ballroom?”
He paused.
“Your father sent me.”
“When?”
“An hour before you arrived.”
“How did he know I'd be there?”
“He didn't.”
“Then why did he send you?”
Daniel leaned back.
“Because he suspected someone might try to reach you.”
I studied him.
“You knew about my family.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my mother was alive.”
“No.”
I didn't believe him.
But before I could push further, one of the monitors flickered.
A feed from the old west corridor.
A woman walked through the hallway.
Barefoot.
Wearing a white dress.
I stared.
“Who is that?”
Daniel immediately stood.
“That hallway is sealed.”
The woman stopped.
Turned.
And looked directly into the camera.
It was my mother.
I forgot how to breathe.
“That's her.”
Daniel stared at the screen.
“She shouldn't be there.”
We ran.
The corridor was empty.
A door at the end stood open.
Inside was my father's old archive room.
Files had been pulled from every shelf.
A chair sat facing the camera.
And on the chair was another photograph.
My mother.
Holding a baby.
I picked it up.
The baby was me.
I looked at the date.
It had been taken three days after my mother's supposed death.
I felt sick.
Daniel picked up another document.
“This is impossible.”
“What?”
He showed me.
A birth certificate.
My name.
My mother's signature.
But the signature date was years after she supposedly died.
I stared at it.
Then a thought hit me.
“What if I'm not the person they told me I was?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Don't say that.”
“Why?”
“Because that's exactly what whoever sent these messages wants you to think.”
He picked up another file.
Inside was a DNA report.
My father's name was on it.
My mother's name was on it.
My name was on it.
But there was something else.
A fourth name.
Ethan Carter.
The report showed a biological relationship.
Sibling probability: 99.98%.
That wasn't surprising.
The date was.
The DNA test had been performed six months ago.
I looked at Daniel.
“How?”
He didn't answer.
I flipped through the pages.
At the bottom was a handwritten note.
HE ASKED ABOUT LENA.
“Who asked?”
Daniel finally spoke.
“Ethan.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“He's alive.”
Daniel stared at the report.
“Yes.”
We didn't have time to process it.
An alarm sounded.
This time from the main gate.
Dad appeared in the doorway.
“What happened?”
Daniel handed him the report.
My father read it.
His face hardened.
“Where?”
“The test was ordered from a private lab downtown.”
Dad looked at me.
“Who had access to your DNA?”
I shook my head.
“Doctors. Dentists. School records.”
“Someone close.”
He looked at Daniel.
“Find the source.”
Then one of the guards shouted through the hall.
“Sir!”
We rushed toward the front entrance.
A delivery truck had stopped outside the gate.
No driver.
No company logo.
Just a cardboard box sitting in the back.
Dad opened it.
Inside was a small cassette recorder.
He stared at it.
Then he pressed play.
Static.
A woman's voice.
My mother's voice.
“Michael…”
Dad went rigid.
“You promised me she would never know.”
My hands went cold.
The recording continued.
“I didn't leave because I wanted to.”
A pause.
“She was supposed to leave with me.”
Dad whispered:
“Lillian.”
My mother's voice returned.
“If you are hearing this, it means Ethan found her.”
The recording crackled.
Then came the sentence that made everyone in the room freeze.
“Lena has never been your daughter.”
The tape stopped.
No one moved.
I looked at my father.
He looked like a man who had just watched his entire life collapse.
“Dad?”
He didn't answer.
I stepped toward him.
“Is it true?”
May you like
He closed his eyes.
And before he could speak, the front door exploded inward.
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