Chapter 13: The Son My Mother Buried
My mother was waiting for us in an interrogation room when we arrived at the precinct.
Victoria Bennett sat beneath fluorescent lights, her silver hair perfectly arranged, her hands folded on the table as if she were attending a board meeting instead of facing accusations of murder, fraud, and conspiracy.
She looked up when I entered.
“Alexander.””
I remained in my wheelchair.
“Who is Ethan?””
For the first time in my life, my mother looked genuinely afraid.
Her fingers tightened around each other.
“Where did you find that name?””
“Room 317. My father's records. A birth certificate with your signature.””
Victoria glanced toward Detective Alvarez, who stood beside the door.
“I'm not answering questions without my attorney.””
“Of course,” I said.
“You can hide behind lawyers. You can hide behind money. You can hide behind the people you've paid to lie for you.””
I leaned forward.
“But you can't hide behind the dead anymore.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what your father put this family through.””
“Then explain it.””
She said nothing.
I placed the photograph of the woman holding the newborn on the table.
“Was Ethan your son?””
Victoria looked down at the picture.
For several seconds, she seemed to forget that anyone else was in the room.
Then she whispered, “He was supposed to be.””
The answer sent a chill through me.
“What does that mean?””
She drew a shaky breath.
“Your father and I had a second child. A boy. He was born prematurely, and the doctors told us he hadn't survived.””
“Did they?””
“No.””
The word came out so quietly that I almost missed it.
Victoria stared at the photograph.
“I was told he had died. I saw a small body wrapped in a blanket. Your father arranged the funeral. I never saw the child again.””
“Yet you signed a birth certificate three months before I was born.””
“Because the dates were altered.””
“By whom?””
She looked at me.
“Samuel Price.””
I felt my pulse quicken.
“Why would Samuel change the dates?””
“Because the child was alive. Your father discovered it weeks later. He believed the hospital had made a mistake, that someone had switched the records. He hired Samuel to investigate.””
“And you knew?””
“Not at first.””
“Then when?””
Victoria closed her eyes.
“When Charles told me he intended to bring Ethan home.””
I stared at her.
“You tried to stop him.””
“I tried to protect you.””
“From your own brother?””
Her head snapped up.
“What?””
“Ethan was my brother, wasn't he?””
Victoria's expression crumpled.
“Yes.””
The room seemed to tilt around me.
All my life, I had been told I was an only child. My mother had built an entire family identity around that fact. She'd said our name carried obligations, that I was the future of Bennett Holdings, that everything Charles had built would one day be mine.
But there had been another son.
A child she had believed dead.
A child she had helped erase.
“Where is he?”” I asked.
“I don't know.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I haven't seen him in decades.””
“Who raised him?””
Victoria looked away.
“Ethan was placed with another family after the hospital records were changed. Charles discovered the truth too late to reverse everything. By then, the people who had taken the child had disappeared.””
“People you paid?””
“No.””
“People Samuel paid?””
She hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than any confession.
“Mother, did you know Ethan was alive when you arranged my father's death?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I knew Charles intended to change the trust. I knew he planned to acknowledge Chad and correct the records concerning Isabella. I believed he was going to dismantle everything we'd built.””
“So you poisoned him.””
“I didn't mean for him to die that night.””
I stared at her.
“You just wanted him quiet?””
“I gave him medication. I thought it would make him sleep. He had been threatening to expose me.””
“Did you know what was in it?””
Victoria's silence stretched between us.
Then she whispered, “Yes.””
Detective Alvarez stepped forward.
“That's enough for now.””
“No,” I said.
“One more question.””
I looked directly at my mother.
“Why did you try to kill me?””
Her face changed.
For a moment, the woman across the table wasn't the powerful executive who had controlled my childhood. She was simply a frightened person watching the last pieces of her carefully constructed world collapse.
“I didn't want you to die.””
“But you paid Harlan.””
“I wanted you to stop fighting me. You were investigating the company, questioning the trust, speaking to people I had warned you to avoid. I thought if you were injured, you would step aside.””
“You thought I'd surrender my life because you wanted control.””
“I thought I could fix it afterward.””
I laughed once, without humor.
“You always thought you could fix everything.””
She reached for my hand.
I pulled it away.
“Don't.””
Her fingers fell to the table.
“I am still your mother.””
“And Ethan was your son.””
She began to cry.
I turned toward the door.
“Alexander,” she called after me.
I stopped but didn't look back.
“There is something you need to know about Ethan.””
I waited.
“Charles wasn't the only person who knew where he went.””
I turned slowly.
“Who else knew?””
Victoria swallowed.
“Brooke.””
The name hit harder than I expected.
Brooke had been at the gala. She had known about Isabella. She had helped uncover the letters, the photographs, and the hidden trust. She had acted frightened when the truth emerged, but she'd always seemed to know more than she admitted.
“Why would Brooke know anything about Ethan?””
“Because her father was the one who raised him.””
I felt my breath catch.
“Brooke's father?””
Victoria nodded.
“Years ago, he was a physician at the hospital where Ethan was born. He took the child after Samuel arranged the false records. He raised Ethan under another name.””
“Does Brooke know who Ethan really is?””
“I don't know.””
I stared at her.
“Where is Brooke now?””
Victoria shook her head.
“She left the city yesterday.””
Detective Alvarez immediately reached for her phone.
I felt a cold certainty settle over me.
Brooke had never been merely my former fiancée. She had been standing at the edge of this secret for years, watching it unfold while I remained blind.
And if she had left the city, she wasn't running from what she knew.
She was running toward someone.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
If you want to meet your brother, come to the old Bennett boathouse at sunrise.
A second message followed.
Come alone. Brooke.
I looked through the interrogation room's glass toward the corridor.
For years, I had believed my family was defined by the people who stayed.
May you like
Now I was beginning to understand that it had been shaped just as much by the people who had been taken away.
And before sunrise, I would finally discover whether the brother my mother had buried in a lie was still alive.
