We returned to the motel before dawn.
No one spoke during the drive.
My father sat beside the window.
My mother sat opposite him.
Ortiz drove.
Ward had disappeared after the shooting.
We didn't know whether she had been captured, escaped, or chosen to leave.
The question barely mattered.
I had only one left.
“What did you do to my mother?”
My father stared through the windshield.
“I betrayed her.”
“That's not enough.”
“I gave Daniel information about her.”
My mother looked away.
“Why?”
“Because I thought I could force him to reveal who was above him.”
“You used her.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know what he would do?”
“I thought I could stop it.”
“You thought?”
My father closed his eyes.
“I was wrong.”
My mother spoke quietly.
“You gave them my location.”
“I was trying to save you.”
“You gave them my location.”
“I didn't know Graham would be there.”
“He broke my arm.”
“I know.”
“He threatened our daughter.”
“I know.”
“He told me he would kill her.”
My father lowered his head.
“I know.”
I stood.
“You don't get to call that protecting us.”
He looked at me.
“I don't.”
The room was silent.
My mother wiped her face.
“I left because I believed staying with either of them would destroy you.”
“Why did you stay with Graham at all?”
“Because he convinced me he could keep Richard away.”
“He lied.”
“Yes.”
“And you believed him?”
“For a while.”
I sat down.
My anger hadn't disappeared.
But it had changed.
It was no longer simple.
Nothing was.
Ortiz placed a file on the table.
“We have a bigger problem.”
I looked at her.
“Vale is gone.”
“How?”
“Someone released him before transport.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
She opened the file.
“Daniel Cross owns three companies under different names.”
My father nodded.
“He's always been good at disappearing.”
“What does he want?”
“The ledger.”
“Why?”
My father looked at me.
“Because the ledger doesn't just contain payments.”
“What else?”
“Names.”
“That's the same thing.”
“No.”
He leaned forward.
“It contains proof of who ordered the payments.”
I understood.
The ledger could expose the people at the top.
Daniel didn't want it destroyed.
He wanted control of it.
My mother shook her head.
“Daniel has spent years trying to find the original records.”
“Then why did he reveal himself?”
“He wants you.”
“Why?”
My father answered.
“Because you are the only person who can open the final file.”
“What final file?”
He looked toward my mother.
She nodded reluctantly.
“The blue box wasn't just a container.”
She reached into her bag and removed a small brass cylinder.
I recognized it.
The same kind of object I had seen in my childhood.
“What is that?”
“A key.”
“For what?”
“The final archive.”
“Where?”
My mother looked at me.
“Under the cemetery where your father was supposedly buried.”
My breath caught.
“You buried an empty grave?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make Richard believe you were safe.”
I stared at the cylinder.
“What is in the archive?”
“The original ledger.”
I felt my pulse race.
“And Daniel doesn't have it?”
“No.”
“Then why does he think he does?”
My father smiled sadly.
“Because I let him believe that for twenty-five years.”
A car door slammed outside.
Ortiz moved toward the window.
“No lights.”
We froze.
Another sound.
Footsteps.
Someone was approaching the motel room.
Ortiz motioned for silence.
The doorknob turned.
Locked.
A voice came through.
“Lena.”
I knew it.
Daniel.
My father reached for the gun Ortiz had given him.
Daniel spoke again.
“I don't want to hurt anyone.”
Ortiz whispered, “Don't believe him.”
Daniel continued.
“Your mother knows what happened to your father.”
My father looked at her.
Daniel laughed softly from the hallway.
“Elias, she never told you.”
My mother went pale.
“What does he mean?”
Daniel answered.
“She knew Richard planned to kill you.”
My father stared at her.
“And she let him.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Daniel's voice became colder.
“She made a deal.”
My father looked at me.
“What deal?”
My mother couldn't speak.
I stepped toward her.
“Mom.”
She finally whispered.
“I gave Richard one thing.”
“What?”
“Your father.”
My father went completely still.
“You told him where I was.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always had a choice.”
The same words she had once used against him.
Daniel laughed.
“And that is why your family never escaped.”
The door exploded inward.
Ortiz fired.
Daniel was already gone.
On the floor lay a single envelope.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother standing beside Richard Mercer.
Behind them was my father's grave.
On the back, Daniel had written:
YOU HAVE UNTIL SUNRISE.
Then another line.
BRING THE KEY TO THE CEMETERY.
My father read it.
“We don't go.”
I looked at him.
“We do.”
“No.”
“If the archive contains the evidence, we need it.”
“You don't understand what Richard will do.”
I held up the brass cylinder.
“For twenty-six years, everyone has decided what I could handle.”
I looked at my mother.
“I am done letting them.”
Ortiz checked the time.
4:48 a.m.
“Sunrise is less than two hours away.”
My father looked at me.
For the first time since meeting him, I saw something other than guilt in his expression.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
He nodded.
“Then we're going together.”
Outside, an engine started.
We looked through the window.
A black sedan pulled away.
On its rear windshield was a small white symbol.
A circle crossed by a line.
The same symbol from my mother's notebook.
The clue we had been carrying since the beginning.
My mother stared at it.
Then she whispered something that made all of us go silent.
“That symbol doesn't belong to Daniel.”
“Whose is it?” I asked.
She looked at my father.
He answered.
“Richard Mercer.”
And somewhere across the city, another phone began to ring.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: Before Sunrise, We Returned to the Grave That Had Never Held My Father and Found Someone Waiting Beneath It
The Night the Locked Door Opened and Everything I Thought I Knew About My Family Changed
Part 8 of 20
