Chapter 10: The Man Who Died
The man outside the car lifted his hand and tapped twice against the window.
My mother screamed.
“Drive!””
Richard didn't hesitate.
The tires screeched as he swung the car away from the hotel entrance.
Emily grabbed the door handle.
“Who was that?””
Mom was crying now.
“Marcus.””
Richard glanced at the rearview mirror.
“He looks exactly like him.””
“Because he is him,” Mom said.
I stared at my phone.
The call was still connected.
“Daniel?””
A quiet laugh came through the speaker.
“No.””
“Then who are you?””
“My name doesn't matter.””
“It matters to me.””
“It will.””
Richard grabbed the phone.
“You said you knew where Lily was.””
“I do.””
“Then tell us.””
“Not until Claire brings me the trust documents.””
I tightened my grip on the folder.
“No.””
“Then Lily dies.””
Emily covered her mouth.
“Don't say that.””
The voice remained calm.
“Your sister's life isn't my concern.””
“You're threatening her.””
“I'm giving you a choice.””
Richard looked at me.
“Don't give him anything.””
The voice laughed again.
“Richard, your brother would be disappointed.””
Richard went rigid.
“You know Marcus?””
“I know more than you think.””
“Who are you?””
The line went dead.
We sat in silence.
Then my mother said something that made me look at her.
“I know that voice.””
“From where?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“Mom.””
“I heard it the night your father died.””
Richard turned around.
“What?””
Mom looked at him.
“There was another man in the hospital.””
“You said it was Marcus.””
“I thought it was.””
“You thought?””
She nodded.
“It was dark. Your father was shouting. Someone was standing behind the door.””
I felt my pulse pounding.
“What did he say?””
Mom closed her eyes.
“He said, ‘She'll never find out.’”
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
Richard accelerated.
“Where are we going?””
I looked at the location Noah had sent.
“The farmhouse.””
Richard shook his head.
“No.””
“Lily is there.””
“If it's a trap—”
“She may be alive.””
Emily turned toward him.
“Dad, we have to go.””
Richard looked at her.
Then at me.
“Fine.””
The farmhouse was forty minutes outside Franklin.
We drove in silence.
Rain began tapping against the windshield.
When we finally reached the property, the gate was open.
Too open.
No security.
No lights.
No cars.
Richard parked behind a line of trees.
“Stay here.””
I opened my door.
“No.””
“Claire—”
“She's my sister.””
Emily grabbed my arm.
“I'm coming too.””
Mom stayed in the car.
I looked at her.
“You're not coming?””
She shook her head.
“I can't.””
“Why?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because I know what's inside.””
Richard looked at her.
“What?””
Mom whispered:
“The room where your father kept the original records.””
We entered through the back door.
The farmhouse smelled of dust and damp wood.
Richard turned on his flashlight.
“Lily?””
Nothing.
We searched room after room.
Empty.
Then Emily noticed a bloodstain on the floor.
“Claire.””
I crouched beside it.
It was fresh.
My stomach turned.
A sound came from upstairs.
Three slow knocks.
Richard raised a finger.
We climbed.
At the end of the hallway was a locked door.
Richard kicked it once.
The door flew open.
Inside was a small room.
A chair.
A table.
A photograph.
And Lily.
She was sitting against the wall, wrists tied, alive.
Emily rushed to her.
“Oh my God.””
Lily looked up.
She had my father's eyes.
Exactly my father's eyes.
She stared at me.
“You're Claire.””
I nodded.
“How do you know me?””
Lily swallowed.
“Because I've been waiting seven years.””
“Waiting for what?””
“For you to come find me.””
Before I could ask why, the lights went out.
A man's voice came from the hallway.
“You shouldn't have come.””
The door slammed shut.
May you like
And Lily whispered:
“That's the man who killed your father.””
