Chapter 8: The Enemy Inside The House
My father took my phone.
He stared at the message for several seconds.
Then he deleted it.
I immediately grabbed it back.
“Why did you do that?””
“Because whoever sent it wanted you scared.””
“Maybe they wanted me to know the truth.””
His expression hardened.
“Emily, people who want the truth don’t hide behind anonymous messages.””
I wanted to believe him.
I really did.
But doubt had already entered.
And doubt was dangerous.
It didn’t need proof.
It only needed a question.
That night, nobody slept.
My father stayed awake downstairs.
Claire searched through old records.
And I sat alone in the guest room staring at the ceiling.
My entire life felt like a story someone else had written.
The poor girl wearing thrift-store jeans.
The quiet student hiding her family name.
The daughter of a billionaire who didn’t know her own past.
A knock came at my door.
I sat up.
“Dad?””
The door opened.
It was Claire.
“Can I come in?””
I nodded.
She sat on the chair across from me.
“You’re angry.””
“Yes.””
“At your father?””
I looked away.
“I don’t know.””
Claire understood.
“That’s the hardest part.””
“What?””
“When someone hurts you, but you don’t know if they’re the person who hurt you.””
I looked at her.
“You believe him?””
She was quiet.
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I knew your mother.””
That answer surprised me.
Claire looked down.
“Your mother trusted Alexander with her life.””
“But she said someone close betrayed her.””
“She did.””
“Then who?””
Claire hesitated.
“I don’t know.””
The answer frustrated me.
Everyone knew pieces.
Nobody knew everything.
The next morning, my father received a call.
I heard his voice from the hallway.
“Send me the location.””
I stepped into the room.
“What happened?””
He turned.
“There was a security breach at my company.””
“Victor?””
He nodded.
“They found someone accessing old records.””
“About Mom?””
“About you.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why would anyone care about me?””
My father looked at me.
“Because you’re not just my daughter.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
He walked to the table and placed a document in front of me.
I looked at it.
It was an old legal agreement.
My mother’s name was there.
My father’s name was there.
And below them…
Mine.
“What is this?””
“Your mother created a trust.””
“For me?””
“Yes.””
I read the document.
The amount of money was unbelievable.
But that wasn’t what shocked me.
It was the condition.
The trust could only be accessed when I turned eighteen.
And only if I received the evidence my mother left behind.
“What evidence?””
My father looked at Claire.
She opened her bag.
“The missing piece.””
She removed a small key.
My heart raced.
“You had that this whole time?””
Claire nodded.
“Your mother gave it to me.””
“Why didn’t you open it?””
“Because it wasn’t mine.””
My father looked at the key.
“Where does it go?””
Claire answered quietly.
“Your mother’s old house.””
I stared.
“My mother’s house?””
“She kept something there.””
My father immediately shook his head.
“No.””
Claire looked at him.
“Alexander.””
“No.””
His voice was firm.
“We are not taking Emily there.””
“Why?””
He didn’t answer.
And once again, his silence told me everything.
I stood.
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“What happened at that house?””
His jaw tightened.
“Emily…”
“No.””
I stepped closer.
“I spent my entire life being protected from the truth.””
I held up the key.
“I’m done being protected.””
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then my father whispered:
“The last time I went to that house…”
He looked at the floor.
“Your mother was alive.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
He looked at me.
“And the person who attacked us that night…”
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A pause.
“Was wearing my security badge.””
