Chapter 8: The Secret Behind Room 214
We left for Louisville before sunrise.
Opal insisted on coming.
Daniel argued for almost twenty minutes, explaining that the journey could be dangerous and that the property might be monitored.
She refused to listen.
"That girl has been missing for twenty-three years," she said.
"If there's even a chance she's alive, I am going.""
I helped her into the back seat.
"Are you sure you're strong enough for this?""
Opal looked at me.
"Sweetheart, I've spent twenty-three years wondering whether my daughter was buried somewhere I couldn't find. I can manage a car ride.""
For the first hour, nobody spoke.
Daniel drove.
I sat beside Opal, holding the old photograph.
The closer we got to Louisville, the more nervous she became.
"What if she doesn't want to see me?"" she finally whispered.
I turned toward her.
"Then we'll respect her decision.""
"What if she's dead?""
I didn't answer.
She stared out the window.
"I used to leave her bedroom light on every night. For years, I couldn't bring myself to turn it off.""
I squeezed her hand.
"My father used to say that a mother never stops waiting.""
Opal looked at me.
"Your father sounds like a good man.""
"He was.""
I didn't tell her that my father had died believing I would take care of the business.
Or that I had failed to protect everything he built.
Some wounds were too complicated for a moving car.
When we reached Louisville, Daniel parked two streets away from the address.
The property was a modest brick house with white shutters and a narrow garden.
A blue bicycle leaned against the porch.
There was a light in the upstairs window.
Opal stared at the house.
"That's where she lives?""
"According to the property records," Daniel answered.
I noticed a black security camera above the garage.
Someone had invested money in protecting the place.
Daniel checked his phone.
"There's a vehicle registered to Monica at this address.""
Opal's face tightened.
"Then she's been here.""
We approached the front door.
Daniel knocked.
No answer.
He knocked again.
A curtain moved upstairs.
Then a woman's voice called out.
"Who's there?""
Opal stepped forward.
"Eleanor?""
Silence.
The front door opened a few inches.
A woman in her early fifties stood behind it.
Her dark hair was streaked with silver.
She looked tired.
And when her eyes settled on Opal, her entire body stiffened.
"Mother?""
Opal made a sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp.
"Eleanor.""
The woman opened the door.
For several seconds, they simply stared at each other.
Then Opal reached for her daughter.
Eleanor stepped backward.
"Don't.""
Opal froze.
"Sweetheart, please.""
"You shouldn't have come here.""
"I've been looking for you for twenty-three years.""
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
"I know.""
Opal looked devastated.
"You knew?""
Eleanor nodded.
"Someone told me.""
"Who?""
Eleanor glanced at me.
Then at Daniel.
"Come inside.""
The house was clean but strangely empty.
There were no family photographs.
No decorations.
No personal items except a small collection of books on the coffee table.
Eleanor locked the door behind us.
"Did Monica send you?"" she asked.
I stepped forward.
"She's my sister.""
Eleanor stared at me.
"Rebecca Hale?""
"Yes.""
She closed her eyes.
"Oh, God.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"You know who I am?""
"Everyone connected to that money knows who you are.""
Daniel pulled out a chair.
"Then you know why we're here.""
Eleanor nodded.
She walked to a cabinet and removed a thick folder.
"I've been keeping these records for years.""
Inside were copies of bank transfers, corporate filings, and letters.
I recognized several account numbers immediately.
They were the same accounts that had appeared in my criminal case.
"Where did you get these?""
"From Richard.""
Opal grabbed her daughter's arm.
"Richard Voss?""
Eleanor nodded.
"He kept me hidden because I knew what he had done.""
"Why didn't you come home?""
Eleanor looked at her mother.
"Because he told me that if I returned, you would be arrested for Walter's death.""
Opal went pale.
"What?""
"He said he had evidence that you had argued with Dad that night. He threatened to make it look like you killed him.""
"That's a lie!""
"I know that now.""
Eleanor looked down.
"But back then, I was twenty-six. I was frightened. And Richard controlled every part of my life.""
I felt a chill.
"Was Monica working with him?""
Eleanor nodded.
"She came to see me several times.""
"When?""
"After she took control of your company.""
I stepped closer.
"What did she want?""
"She wanted the original documents Richard had hidden. She believed I knew where they were.""
"Did you?""
Eleanor looked toward the hallway.
Then she opened another folder.
"I had something much more important.""
She removed a photograph.
It showed Richard Voss standing beside Monica.
Between them was a younger man.
I recognized him.
Trevor.
But something else caught my attention.
The photograph had been taken inside a hospital room.
A patient lay in the bed.
I looked closer.
The patient was Walter Hargrove.
Alive.
The date printed on the photograph was six days after the date of his supposed death.
Opal stumbled backward.
"No.""
Eleanor began crying.
"Dad didn't die that night.""
I stared at her.
"Then who did?""
She looked at Daniel.
"Someone else was buried under his name.""
The room fell silent.
Opal covered her mouth.
I could barely process what I was hearing.
Daniel slowly took the photograph.
"Do you have any proof that Walter survived?""
Eleanor nodded.
"I have a recording.""
"Of what?""
"His last conversation with Richard.""
She walked to the cabinet and pulled out a small digital recorder.
Before she could press play, a loud crash sounded outside.
The front window shattered.
A brick rolled across the living room floor.
Attached to it was a folded piece of paper.
Eleanor screamed.
Daniel rushed to the window.
A dark car was speeding away.
I picked up the paper.
There was a single sentence written in black ink.
*THE WOMAN YOU'RE PROTECTING IS NOT WALTER'S DAUGHTER.*
I turned toward Opal.
She was staring at Eleanor with an expression of absolute horror.
May you like
And then Eleanor whispered:
"Mother, there's something else I need to tell you about the night I was born.""
