Chapter 14: The Woman Who Was Never Gone
The world stopped making sense.
My mother was alive.
That sentence didn’t belong in reality.
It belonged in dreams.
Or nightmares.
Not here.
Not after twelve years of believing I had lost her.
“Where is she?””
My voice barely sounded like mine.
Brooke looked down.
“I don’t know exactly.””
My anger returned instantly.
“You said you knew.””
“I know what my mother did.””
“Then tell me.””
Brooke swallowed.
“She kept records.””
Daniel stepped closer.
“Records of what?””
“Everyone involved.””
She looked at me.
“Your mother discovered everything.””
The room became silent.
“After the accident, Margaret found her.””
My father’s face changed.
“She was alive.””
Brooke nodded.
“Yes.””
“And she hid her?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Brooke looked ashamed.
“Because my mother knew your mother had evidence that could destroy her.””
I walked toward the window.
My entire life had been built on a lie.
My mother wasn’t gone.
She wasn’t a memory.
She was somewhere.
Waiting.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
Brooke’s eyes filled.
“Because I didn’t know until recently.””
I turned.
“Recently?””
She nodded.
“After the gala.””
I almost laughed.
“So when you insulted me in front of everyone, you also knew my mother was alive?””
“No.””
Her voice cracked.
“I swear.””
I studied her.
For once, I believed her.
Not because she deserved it.
Because she looked broken.
Daniel looked at the files.
“What evidence do we have?””
Brooke pulled out her phone.
“My mother recorded everything.””
She showed us a hidden folder.
Videos.
Messages.
Photos.
One file stood out.
*M. Bennett Transfer.*
I opened it.
A video played.
Margaret appeared on screen.
Older.
Angrier.
Speaking to someone off camera.
“We can’t keep her hidden forever.””
A man’s voice responded.
“She knows too much.””
Margaret sighed.
“Then make sure she never reaches Ethan.””
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
The implication was clear.
My mother was alive.
And someone was still trying to stop her from reaching me.
Then Isabella walked into the room.
Everyone turned.
She looked exhausted.
“I found something.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She held a folder.
“My father’s final documents.””
Victor’s daughter.
The person who had betrayed my trust.
But also the person who had helped uncover the truth.
She placed the folder down.
“My father didn’t start this.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“He inherited it.””
Daniel looked confused.
“Inherited from who?””
Isabella opened the file.
Inside was a photograph.
A group of people standing together.
Victor.
Margaret.
Chad.
And another person.
A person I recognized.
My stomach dropped.
Because the fourth person was my mother.
No one spoke.
I stared at the picture.
“This doesn’t make sense.””
Isabella nodded.
“I know.””
“She worked with them?””
“I don’t think so.””
“Then why is she there?””
Isabella looked at the date.
“Because this picture was taken before everything happened.””
My father stepped closer.
He saw something.
“What?””
He pointed at the corner of the image.
A date.
A location.
Then his face went pale.
“That’s impossible.””
“What?””
He looked at me.
“Your mother wasn’t investigating Victor.””
The room froze.
“She was working with him.””
My heart sank.
“No.””
My father looked devastated.
“I don’t understand anymore.””
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
From an unknown number.
A photo appeared.
A woman sitting near a window.
Older.
Tired.
But unmistakable.
My mother.
Below the image was a sentence.
*If you want the truth, come alone.*
I looked at everyone.
Then back at the picture.
Twelve years of questions.
Twelve years of pain.
May you like
And finally…
I had a chance to see her.
