Chapter 6: My Missing Sister Was Alive
I couldn't hear the rain anymore.
I couldn't hear the police radios, the murmured conversations, or the technician typing frantically at his keyboard.
All I could hear was Richard's sentence repeating inside my head.
She's been missing for eighteen months.
But she's only been locked upstairs for the last three days.
I grabbed the edge of the security desk.
"You're telling me Emily has been alive this entire time?""
Richard's eyes filled with tears.
"Yes.""
"Where was she before three days ago?""
"I don't know.""
"Who brought her here?""
He shook his head.
"Victor arranged it. I swear I didn't know who she was until three days ago.""
Detective Brooks stepped between us.
"Mr. Bennett, I understand this is personal, but I need you to let us handle the immediate search.""
"That's my sister.""
"I know. And we're going to find her.""
I looked toward the elevators.
"Then let's go.""
Detective Brooks nodded to one of the officers.
"Take Mr. Collins into a separate room for questioning. Don't let him access any hotel systems or contact anyone.""
Richard didn't resist when the officer approached him.
Instead, he looked at me with desperate eyes.
"Daniel, I didn't know they'd keep her there.""
"You knew someone was being held upstairs.""
"I knew about the room. I didn't know it was Emily.""
"You heard someone shouting last week.""
He lowered his head.
"Yes.""
"And you did nothing.""
His lips trembled.
"I was afraid.""
I stared at him, remembering the way he'd looked at my daughter and decided she wasn't worth a room.
"Imagine how afraid she must have been.""
Richard had no answer.
Detective Brooks directed two officers toward the service corridor while Claire and her colleague remained with the computers to preserve the digital evidence.
I turned toward Sophie.
She was still sitting beside Melissa, clutching the empty water bottle.
"Daddy?"" she asked when she saw my face.
I knelt beside her.
"I'm going to find Aunt Emily.""
Her eyes widened.
"She's here?""
"I think so, sweetheart.""
Sophie threw her arms around my neck.
"Can you bring her home?""
I held her tightly.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do.""
I kissed her forehead and asked Melissa to stay with her until I returned. Detective Brooks assigned an officer to remain nearby, then led me through a staff-only doorway behind the banquet kitchen.
The corridor smelled of detergent, damp cardboard, and old cooking oil.
Emergency lights cast red shadows along the walls.
At the end stood a steel door with a keypad.
Detective Brooks examined the lock.
"Do you have a key?""
The officer beside her shook his head.
"Not for this door.""
She called for the hotel's facilities supervisor, who arrived carrying a ring of keys and a flashlight.
"I've worked here four years," he said.
"I've never seen anyone use this entrance.""
"Who maintains the area beyond it?"" Detective Brooks asked.
"Nobody officially.""
She looked at him.
"Then how is it secured?""
He stared at the keypad.
"I don't know.""
The detective ordered him to stand back while the officers assessed the door.
A few minutes later, they gained access without damaging the surrounding structure.
Beyond it was a narrow service elevator.
The control panel had no floor numbers above twenty-two.
Instead, a single black button sat beneath a metal cover.
No label.
No explanation.
The facilities supervisor shook his head.
"That isn't on our maintenance plans.""
Detective Brooks lifted the cover.
The button was marked with a small silver number.
*23.*
She pressed it.
The elevator doors slid shut.
As the lift climbed, I felt each movement in my knees. Sophie was waiting downstairs, my sister was somewhere above us, and every second seemed impossibly slow.
When the doors opened, I stepped into a corridor lined with fresh carpet and elegant wall sconces.
It looked like an ordinary luxury hotel hallway.
That was the most disturbing part.
There were framed landscape paintings, polished brass room numbers, and a small table holding a vase of white roses.
Someone had spent money making this place beautiful.
Someone had wanted it to look harmless.
Detective Brooks signaled the officers to move carefully.
We passed three closed doors.
The first had a digital lock.
The second stood slightly open, revealing a room with an unmade bed and several suitcases.
The third door had a handwritten notice taped to it.
*DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION.*
An officer tried the handle.
Locked.
Detective Brooks knocked.
"Atlanta Police Department. Is anyone inside?""
No response.
She knocked again, louder.
"Emily Bennett, if you're in there, we're here to help you.""
A faint sound came from behind the door.
Three knocks.
Then silence.
I rushed forward.
"Emily!""
Another three knocks answered me.
My sister was alive.
Detective Brooks ordered the officers to open the door. They worked quickly, and when the lock finally released, I pushed through before anyone could stop me.
The room was dim.
A narrow bed stood against one wall. A tray of untouched food sat beside it. The curtains were drawn, and a small lamp illuminated a woman sitting on the floor near the bathroom.
Her hair was shorter than I remembered. Her face was thinner. A dark bruise marked her left cheek.
But I knew those eyes.
"Daniel?""
Her voice was barely a whisper.
I dropped to my knees.
"Emily.""
She stared at me as though she couldn't trust what she was seeing.
Then she began to cry.
I wrapped my arms around her carefully, afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt her.
"I'm here," I whispered.
"You're safe now.""
She clutched the back of my shirt.
"I thought he was going to kill me.""
"Who?""
She pulled away just enough to look at me.
"Victor.""
Detective Brooks crouched beside us.
"Emily, I'm Detective Brooks. We need to get you medical attention, but first, can you tell us whether anyone else is in immediate danger?""
Emily nodded frantically.
"There's another room.""
The detective looked up.
"Where?""
"Across the corridor. Room 2304.""
"Who's inside?""
Emily's hands began to shake.
"I don't know his name. Victor brought him here two nights ago. He said the man had stolen company money.""
I exchanged a glance with Detective Brooks.
"Have you seen him?""
"Only once. He was bleeding.""
She gripped my wrist.
"Daniel, you have to listen to me. Victor isn't just stealing from the hotels. He's been using the empty rooms to hide people who threaten him.""
Detective Brooks stood immediately and directed two officers toward room 2304.
I remained beside my sister as she struggled to breathe.
"Why didn't you contact me?"" I asked gently.
"I tried. Before they moved me here, I sent you emails, messages, everything. Victor said he could reach you through your own office.""
My stomach twisted.
"Who helped him?""
Emily shook her head.
"I don't know everyone involved. But someone inside your executive team has been giving him access to your private communications.""
Before I could respond, shouting erupted from across the corridor.
An officer called out, "Detective! We need you in here!""
Detective Brooks hurried toward the door.
I helped Emily stand, but she clung to my arm.
"Don't let them take me away," she whispered.
"Nobody is taking you anywhere.""
Then she looked directly into my eyes.
"Daniel, there's something else.""
"What is it?""
She swallowed hard.
"Victor didn't bring me here because I discovered the stolen money.""
Her voice broke.
"He brought me here because I found the document proving that someone has been preparing to take your company away from you.""
I stared at her.
"What document?""
Emily reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a small, folded sheet of paper.
She pressed it into my hand.
At the top was the official letterhead of Bennett Grand Hotels.
Below it was a signature I recognized instantly.
My own.
And beneath that signature was a clause authorizing the transfer of controlling ownership to a company I'd never heard of.
Emily looked at me through her tears.
"Daniel, you never signed this, did you?""
I stared at the document.
Then I saw the date.
It had been signed three days before my sister disappeared.
May you like
And the witness listed beneath my forged signature was the one person I'd trusted more than anyone else in the company.
My father's former attorney.
