Jessica picked up the gold ring.
Her fingers trembled.
“My mother wore this the night she disappeared.”
I looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“My father kept a photograph.”
“Then why was it here?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Arthur stared at the ring.
“She left it for me.”
I turned.
“You had it?”
“No.”
He pointed to the floor.
“I haven't seen it since the fire.”
The room seemed to hold its breath.
Maya searched the stairs.
No footprints.
No sign of whoever had entered.
But the basement window was open.
Rain blew through the gap.
“We've been followed,” she said.
I looked at Jessica.
“Did you call anyone?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“She couldn't.”
Arthur shook his head.
“She can.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Elena has been in contact with someone.”
“Who?”
“The council.”
I looked at Maya.
“The same council?”
“Yes.”
“Then someone on the council took the ledger.”
Arthur nodded.
“That's what Mercer wanted you to believe.”
I frowned.
“What are you saying?”
“Mercer never took the ledger.”
I remembered the silver ring.
“The person who took it was wearing a gold ring.”
Arthur's face changed.
“Then it was Elena.”
I stared at him.
“My mother came here?”
“She came for the ledger.”
“But why leave her ring?”
“To let us know she was here.”
Jessica shook her head.
“No.”
We looked at her.
“My mother wouldn't leave evidence.”
“Why not?”
“Because she doesn't trust anyone.”
Arthur gave a sad smile.
“She trusted you.”
“She trusted me enough to use me.”
I watched Jessica.
“Is that what you believe?”
“I don't know anymore.”
For the first time, she looked as lost as I felt.
Maya picked up the gold ring.
“There is an inscription.”
She turned it over.
Three letters had been carved inside.
E.H.
Elena Hayes.
My mother had used my father's surname.
That meant she hadn't abandoned him.
She had considered herself his wife.
And that meant something.
We returned upstairs.
The house smelled of smoke from the damaged wiring.
I found my mother's old photograph on the mantel.
She was smiling.
My father stood behind her.
I wondered how many years they'd both carried the same secret.
Then I noticed the frame.
There was a second photograph behind it.
I pulled it out.
It showed my mother with Jessica.
They were standing together outside a café.
The date was eight years earlier.
The year I met my wife.
Jessica covered her mouth.
“You knew her.”
She nodded.
“I met her before I met you.”
“Where?”
“Vancouver.”
“Why?”
“She contacted me.”
“About what?”
“Your father.”
I stared at her.
“What did she tell you?”
“That he wanted me to marry you.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
I turned toward him.
“You arranged our marriage.”
“I introduced you.”
“That's not what I asked.”
“Yes.”
The room felt smaller.
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“You used my wife as a shield.”
“I thought I was saving you.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
Jessica stepped between us.
“Ethan, I made my own choices.”
“You chose me.”
“Yes.”
“You chose to lie.”
“Yes.”
“And you chose to keep me from having children.”
Her eyes filled.
“I was afraid.”
“Of the trust?”
“Of Mercer.”
“Explain.”
“If we had a child, Mercer could use the child against us.”
“But the trust would pass to the child.”
“I knew.”
“So you delayed.”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
She continued.
“I thought I was buying time.”
“For what?”
“For you to become safe.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Was I ever safe?”
“No.”
Her answer was immediate.
That honesty hurt.
Maya opened the ledger's photocopied pages.
“We have enough evidence to expose Mercer.”
“Enough?”
“Enough to start.”
“But not enough to find my mother.”
Jessica looked at the gold ring.
“I know where she might go.”
I turned.
“Where?”
“An old cabin.”
“Whose?”
“My grandmother's.”
“Where?”
“Near Whistler.”
Maya frowned.
“Why would Elena go there?”
“Because that's where she hid the first set of records.”
I looked at Jessica.
“How do you know?”
“My mother told me.”
“When?”
“After I married you.”
“And you never told me.”
“I was afraid.”
I walked toward the window.
The rain had stopped.
For the first time in days, the sky was beginning to clear.
I thought about my father.
My mother.
Jessica.
The ledger.
The trust.
Thirty years of secrets had brought us to one place.
A cabin in Canada.
“We go tonight,” I said.
Arthur tried to stand.
“You stay here.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I know where she thinks.”
“You've done enough.”
Arthur looked at me.
“I have spent thirty years protecting you.”
“And I spent thirty-two years believing you.”
His face broke.
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
Jessica picked up her coat.
“I’m coming.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because my mother is there.”
“And if she isn't?”
“Then I'll help you find her.”
Maya gathered the documents.
“Then we're leaving.”
We reached the Canadian border shortly after midnight.
The drive through the mountains was quiet.
Snow appeared along the roadside.
Jessica slept for part of the journey.
I didn't.
I watched the headlights cut through the darkness.
Near dawn, we reached the cabin.
Smoke rose from the chimney.
Someone was inside.
Jessica stopped walking.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
She pointed toward the porch.
There were fresh footprints in the snow.
Several sets.
One belonged to a woman.
One to a man.
And one set was unmistakable.
Heavy boots.
Work boots.
My father's.
I turned toward the road.
Arthur had followed us.
But he wasn't alone.
A black SUV had stopped behind us.
Mercer stepped out.
He held the ledger.
And beside him stood a woman with gray hair.
My mother.
She looked directly at me.
Then Mercer raised the ledger.
“Now,” he said, “we can finally finish what began thirty years ago.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Mercer smiled.
“You still don't understand, Elena.”
He turned toward me.
“Your father wasn't the Keeper.”
He lifted the ledger.
“Your son is.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 13: The Man Beside My Mother
My Father Asked Me for a Thousand Dollars, Then Looked Past My Shoulder as Though He Was Afraid Someone Had Followed Him Home
Part 12 of 20
