“He’s dead.”
The attorney stared at me.
For half a second, neither of us moved.
Then he smiled.
“Yes.”
The way he said it made my blood run cold.
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Which is why you should stop making this difficult.”
I slowly removed my hand from the door.
Daniel looked relieved.
He thought I had surrendered.
I stepped backward.
“Come in.”
He entered.
The two men followed.
The door closed behind them.
And that’s when Brandon stepped into the hallway.
Daniel stopped breathing.
One of the strangers reached inside his jacket.
Frank moved faster.
He grabbed the man’s wrist and slammed it against the wall.
The weapon dropped.
Daniel stumbled backward.
His face went completely white.
Brandon looked at him.
“Hello, Daniel.”
The attorney stared as though he were looking at a ghost.
Then he whispered the words that confirmed everything.
“No.”
Brandon took another step.
“Yes.”
Daniel backed toward the door.
“But… Victoria said—”
He stopped.
Brandon’s eyes narrowed.
“Victoria said what?”
Daniel said nothing.
“Finish the sentence.”
Daniel swallowed.
“She said you were dead.”
Brandon smiled without humor.
“She lied.”
The two men exchanged a glance.
Frank kicked the dropped weapon away.
“Who are you?”
Neither answered.
I picked up the phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Wait.”
“No.”
“Mrs. Eleanor, please.”
I laughed.
“Please?”
He suddenly looked terrified.
“You don’t understand what you’re involved in.”
“My son was poisoned.”
Daniel froze.
“He was beaten.”
Silence.
“And someone tried to manufacture a death certificate in his name.”
Daniel stared at Brandon.
Brandon’s voice was quiet.
“Did Victoria tell you what happened to Marcus?”
Daniel looked down.
That was enough.
I knew.
He knew.
Everyone knew.
Except the police.
Frank pulled out his phone.
“I’m recording this.”
Daniel immediately stepped forward.
“You can’t—”
“I already am.”
Daniel stopped.
Brandon looked at him.
“Tell me where my wife is.”
Daniel hesitated.
“She’s at the penthouse.”
“No.”
Brandon stepped closer.
“She isn’t.”
Daniel’s eyes shifted.
Brandon saw it.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I looked at my son.
“How do you know?”
“Because Victoria doesn’t stay anywhere predictable when she’s scared.”
He turned toward the laptop.
“She’ll go to the one place nobody would think to look.”
I remembered the video.
Victoria.
Her brother.
The secret conversations.
The documents.
The insurance.
Something clicked.
“Her father’s house.”
Brandon shook his head.
“Too obvious.”
“Then where?”
He stared at the table.
At the gray folder.
Then his eyes widened.
“The company warehouse.”
Frank frowned.
“Why?”
“Because that’s where the original corporate records are.”
Daniel’s face changed again.
Brandon saw it.
“You know.”
Daniel said nothing.
“You know exactly what she’s doing.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re going to tell me.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
Brandon grabbed his collar.
Frank stepped forward.
“Boss.”
Brandon released him.
He was breathing hard.
Then I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Let him talk.”
Daniel looked at me.
“You think this ends with Victoria going to prison?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
He looked toward the floor.
“Victoria isn’t acting alone.”
The room became silent.
Brandon’s face hardened.
“Who?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
“Who?”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I’ll be killed.”
I looked at him.
“So will my son.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Then whispered:
“Your husband’s name.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Arthur.”
I stepped backward.
“My husband?”
Daniel nodded.
“Victoria didn’t discover the company structure.”
Brandon stared at him.
“Who did?”
“Arthur.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“But Arthur died three years ago.”
Daniel’s voice became quieter.
“He wasn’t supposed to.”
Nobody spoke.
Frank stared at him.
Brandon looked as if someone had struck him.
“What are you saying?”
Daniel reached into his coat.
Slowly.
He pulled out a photograph.
He placed it on the table.
I looked down.
It showed Arthur.
My husband.
Standing beside Victoria.
But the photograph was dated only six months ago.
My fingers began trembling.
“That isn’t possible.”
Daniel said nothing.
Brandon picked up the photograph.
“Where was this taken?”
“Chicago.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
Brandon stared at his father’s face.
Then he noticed something.
A scar above Arthur’s eyebrow.
The scar was real.
I remembered it.
Arthur had gotten it when Brandon was seven.
There was no doubt.
It was him.
Alive.
My husband was alive.
And suddenly, everything I thought I knew about the past three years collapsed.
The heart attack.
The hospital.
The funeral.
The ashes I had held in my hands.
The tears.
The empty bedroom.
All of it.
A lie.
I looked at Daniel.
“Where is my husband?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then he said something that made my entire body go cold.
“He’s the one who ordered Victoria to kill Brandon.”
Brandon stared at him.
“No.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“He believes Brandon betrayed him.”
My son stepped backward.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Your father believes you stole the company from him.”
“I built that company.”
“That’s not what he believes.”
Brandon’s face twisted with disbelief.
“And Victoria?”
“She was supposed to marry you, wait until you transferred control, then remove you.”
I whispered:
“And Arthur?”
Daniel looked directly at me.
“Arthur was supposed to inherit everything after Brandon died.”
I felt something inside me break.
For three years I had mourned my husband.
For three years I had believed I lost him.
And now I was being told that the man I loved had orchestrated the death of our only child.
Brandon came toward me.
“Mom.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He gently held my shoulders.
“Mom, look at me.”
I did.
“I don’t believe it.”
Neither did I.
But there was one problem.
The photograph.
And then another thought entered my mind.
If Arthur was alive…
Why had he allowed me to believe he was dead?
Suddenly the laptop screen flickered.
The video stopped.
A new notification appeared.
One new file had been added to the drive.
None of us had touched the computer.
Frank stared at it.
“That’s impossible.”
The file name was simple.
ELEANOR.
My blood ran cold.
Brandon clicked it.
The screen went black.
Then a video began.
Arthur appeared.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably my husband.
He looked directly into the camera.
And the first words out of his mouth were:
“Eleanor, if you’re watching this, Brandon has survived.”
I stopped breathing.
Arthur continued.
“And that means Victoria failed.”
Brandon whispered:
“Dad…”
Arthur looked exhausted.
Terrified.
Then he said:
“But there is something you must understand.”
He leaned closer to the camera.
“Victoria was never the person I was most afraid of.”
The video paused.
A second message appeared beneath it.
IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO ORDERED THE KILLING, GO TO THE OLD MILL BEFORE MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE.
I stared at the screen.
Frank immediately shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
Brandon looked at me.
“We’re not going.”
But I was already looking toward the clock.
11:17 p.m.
We had less than forty-three minutes.
And somewhere in the darkness outside, someone knew my son was alive.
Someone knew my husband was alive.
And someone had just invited me to a place where one of them might finally tell me the truth.
Or where the last member of my family might die.
PART 5
The clock on the kitchen wall moved to 11:18.
Forty-two minutes.
That was all.
Frank immediately shook his head.
“No one is going to that mill.”
Brandon nodded.
“For once, I agree with him.”
I stared at the screen.
My husband’s face was frozen there.
Arthur.
Alive.
After three years of believing I had buried him.
I reached toward the laptop and touched the screen with trembling fingers.
“Your father knew this would happen.”
Brandon looked at me.
“Mom, that’s exactly why we’re not going.”
“He knew I would find this message.”
“Or someone wants us to believe he made it.”
I looked at him.
“You think the video is fake?”
“I don’t know.”
That was the terrifying part.
None of us knew what was real anymore.
Frank walked toward the window.
“There are still two vehicles outside.”
Brandon looked at him.
“Then we’re already being watched.”
Frank nodded.
“We need to get you somewhere safe.”
“No,” I said.
Both men turned toward me.
I picked up the gray folder.
“We’ve spent two days reacting to them.”
I opened it.
“Victoria called me because she thought I was powerless.”
I pulled out the bank statements.
“She sent men to my house because she thought I was frightened.”
I placed the corporate documents on the table.
“And someone sent this video because they believe I’ll follow instructions.”
I closed the folder.
“I’m done being afraid.”
Brandon stared at me.
“Mom.”
I looked into my son’s eyes.
“If your father is alive, I need to know why.”
“And if it’s a trap?”
“Then we make sure we’re not the ones walking into it blindly.”
Frank considered this.
Then he nodded.
“I know another way into the mill.”
Brandon looked at him.
“You’ve been there?”
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
Frank gave a tired smile.
“Because your father had secrets long before your wife did.”
That sentence followed us all the way to the car.
We left through the rear garage.
Frank drove.
Brandon sat in the back seat, still pale from his injuries.
I sat beside him, holding the folder against my chest.
Atlanta’s streets were nearly empty.
Streetlights passed across Brandon’s face.
He looked older than he had two days earlier.
Not physically.
Something inside him had changed.
He had lost the ability to believe that love automatically meant safety.
I placed my hand over his.
“Whatever we find tonight, you’re not alone.”
He squeezed my fingers.
“I know.”
After twenty minutes, Frank turned onto a narrow road surrounded by trees.
The old mill appeared in the distance.