CHAPTER 12 — THE WOMAN WHO CAME BACK
CHAPTER 12 — THE WOMAN WHO CAME BACK
“Mom!”
Evelyn ran into the street.
The black car was already gone.
She stopped beneath the rain, breathing hard, staring at the empty road.
Nothing.
No headlights.
No footsteps.
No trace.
Only the distant sound of traffic moving through the city.
Behind her, Nathan appeared at the doorway.
“She wanted you to see her.”
Evelyn turned.
“You knew.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Not tonight.”
“You said she was alive.”
“I said the evidence showed she was alive.”
“You knew she was close.”
“No.”
Evelyn walked toward him.
“Then how did she know exactly when to appear?”
Nathan didn't answer.
Evelyn's voice sharpened.
“You keep giving me pieces of the truth.”
“Because every time someone tells you the whole truth, someone else dies.”
She stared at him.
“That isn't an excuse.”
“No.”
Nathan looked exhausted.
“It isn't.”
Marcus came out of the mansion.
“Evelyn.”
She turned toward him.
“Don't.”
Marcus stopped.
“You've lied to me enough.”
“I know.”
“You gave my mother to Victor.”
“I never gave her to Victor.”
“Then what did you do?”
Marcus looked at the empty street.
“I made a choice.”
“What choice?”
“A terrible one.”
Evelyn waited.
Marcus finally whispered:
“I chose which daughter Victor would find.”
Evelyn froze.
“What?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Your mother had three daughters.”
“I know.”
“Victor knew there were two.”
Evelyn stared.
“He didn't know about Sophia.”
“No.”
“And Amelia?”
“He knew Amelia existed.”
Evelyn's stomach tightened.
“Then why did you tell me you could only save one?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Because I was told the other two were already dead.”
“By Adrian?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Yes.”
Evelyn's voice became colder.
“So you believed him.”
“I had no reason not to.”
“You trusted the man who betrayed my mother.”
“I didn't know he had betrayed her.”
“That's the problem.”
Marcus looked broken.
“I know.”
Evelyn turned away.
Then she saw something on the pavement.
A small white envelope.
She walked toward it.
There was no name.
Only one word.
EVELYN.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Isabelle.
Older.
Alive.
Standing beside a lake.
On the back, in handwriting Evelyn recognized immediately, were six words:
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT ME BACK.
Evelyn stared at the photograph.
Nathan stepped closer.
“Don't go.”
She looked at him.
“You're not my husband anymore.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to tell me what to do.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you still trying?”
Nathan looked at her.
“Because I promised your mother.”
Evelyn's expression changed.
“What promise?”
“That I'd keep you alive.”
She almost laughed.
“After everything you did?”
Nathan lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Then he looked at her again.
“I failed.”
Three hours later, Evelyn stood outside an abandoned train station on the edge of the city.
She had come alone.
At least, she thought she had.
The station was empty.
Broken windows.
Rusting tracks.
A single yellow light flickered above the platform.
Evelyn held the photograph tightly.
“Mom?”
Nothing.
She walked farther inside.
“I'm here.”
A voice came from behind her.
“You shouldn't have come alone.”
Evelyn turned.
Isabelle stood at the end of the platform.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
For seventeen years, she had remembered her mother in fragments.
A warm hand.
A soft voice.
The smell of lavender.
A lullaby.
Then the fire.
Then nothing.
But this woman was real.
Older.
Thinner.
Her hair streaked with silver.
A scar crossed the left side of her neck.
Her eyes were exactly the same.
Evelyn whispered:
“Mom.”
Isabelle took one step forward.
“Evelyn.”
Evelyn ran.
They collided in the middle of the platform.
Isabelle wrapped both arms around her daughter.
Evelyn cried against her shoulder.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you come back?”
Isabelle closed her eyes.
“Because if I had, you would have died.”
Evelyn pulled away.
“You let me believe you were dead for seventeen years.”
“I did.”
“You let Dad lie to me.”
“I asked him to.”
“You let me marry Nathan.”
Isabelle looked at her.
“Yes.”
Evelyn's face hardened.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew everything.”
“Not everything.”
“You knew enough.”
Isabelle nodded.
“Yes.”
Evelyn stepped backward.
“How could you?”
“Because I had to choose between being your mother and being the reason you survived.”
“You could have told me.”
“If I had told you, Victor would have known you were connected to me.”
“Victor is dead.”
Isabelle's expression changed.
“No.”
Evelyn froze.
“What?”
“Victor is not dead.”
Evelyn stared.
“His body was identified.”
“A body was identified.”
“You're saying Victor survived?”
“I am saying the man who died was not Victor.”
Evelyn felt the world shift beneath her.
“Then where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Mom.”
Isabelle looked toward the dark tracks.
“He disappeared seventeen years ago.”
“Then why did you come back now?”
“Because you released the archive.”
Evelyn understood.
“The ledger.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I would release it?”
“I hoped you would.”
Evelyn stared.
“Then the whole thing…”
“The archive was never designed to protect the money.”
“What was it designed to do?”
“Expose the people who wanted it.”
Evelyn went silent.
Isabelle continued.
“Victor's greatest weapon was secrecy. Your grandfather understood that. So did I.”
“And Dad?”
“Your father understood too late.”
Evelyn looked away.
“What happened the night of the fire?”
Isabelle took a long breath.
“I was going to tell you eventually.”
“I need to know now.”
Isabelle nodded.
“Then listen carefully.”
She sat on an old wooden bench.
Evelyn remained standing.
“The night of the fire, Adrian came to the house.”
“I know.”
“He told me Victor had discovered the archive.”
“I know.”
“He said he could get the girls out.”
Evelyn's eyes narrowed.
“You trusted him.”
“I did.”
“What changed?”
“He wasn't alone.”
Evelyn felt a chill.
“Who was with him?”
Isabelle looked directly at her.
“Your father.”
Evelyn's heart sank.
“Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“What did they want?”
“The archive.”
Evelyn stared.
“Not us?”
“Not at first.”
Isabelle's voice trembled.
“They believed the archive contained enough evidence to destroy Victor.”
“It did.”
“Yes.”
“Then why take it?”
“Because whoever controlled the archive could control the restitution money.”
Evelyn remembered the ledger.
The accounts.
The millions.
The victims.
“So Dad wanted the money?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Your father wanted to protect it.”
Evelyn frowned.
“By stealing it?”
“Marcus believed he could move the money somewhere Victor couldn't reach.”
“And Victor?”
“Victor believed Marcus had stolen it.”
“So they fought.”
“No.”
Isabelle looked down.
“They made a deal.”
Evelyn's breath caught.
“What deal?”
“Marcus would take the archive.”
“Why?”
“To keep Victor from finding it.”
“And you?”
“I would disappear.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“That doesn't explain the fire.”
“No.”
Isabelle looked at her daughter.
“The fire wasn't part of Marcus's plan.”
Evelyn's heart began pounding.
“Then who started it?”
Isabelle was silent.
Evelyn stepped closer.
“Mom.”
“I don't know.”
Evelyn stared.
“You don't know?”
“I saw the fire begin.”
“Who started it?”
“I couldn't see his face.”
“Then how do you know it wasn't Marcus?”
“Because Marcus was with me.”
Evelyn froze.
“What?”
“He came into the house after the fire started.”
“But he told me he started it.”
“He lied.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought admitting the truth would put you in greater danger.”
Evelyn looked away.
Everything was changing again.
“What about Adrian?”
“He didn't start the fire either.”
“Then who?”
Isabelle reached into her coat.
She removed a small photograph.
She handed it to Evelyn.
The photograph showed the three women.
Isabelle.
Margaret Morgan.
Eleanor Cross.
Standing together outside the Vale estate.
But behind them was a fourth person.
A man.
His face was partially obscured.
Evelyn stared.
“Who is that?”
Isabelle whispered:
“The man who held the match.”
Evelyn looked closer.
Then her blood ran cold.
The man was wearing a black-stone ring.
The same ring Adrian wore.
Evelyn looked at her mother.
“Adrian.”
“No.”
“But the ring—”
“Adrian inherited that ring.”
“From whom?”
Isabelle's eyes filled with tears.
“His father.”
Evelyn froze.
“Eleanor's husband?”
“Yes.”
“Who was he?”
Isabelle looked away.
“His name was Thomas Cross.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Why have I never heard of him?”
“Because Thomas Cross died before you were born.”
“Then how did he start the fire?”
Isabelle's voice dropped.
“Because the man you think was Thomas Cross wasn't Thomas Cross.”
Evelyn stared.
“What?”
“Thomas had a twin brother.”
Silence.
Evelyn looked at the photograph again.
“Who?”
Isabelle whispered:
“Gabriel Cross.”
Evelyn's eyes widened.
“The third man.”
“Yes.”
“The man behind everything?”
“No.”
Isabelle shook her head.
“He was only the man who carried the orders.”
“Whose orders?”
Isabelle didn't answer.
Evelyn stepped closer.
“Mom.”
Isabelle looked at her.
“The orders came from someone you have already met.”
Evelyn's blood ran cold.
“Who?”
Before Isabelle could answer—
a gunshot cracked through the station.
Isabelle fell.
“Mom!”
Evelyn caught her before she hit the floor.
Blood spread across Isabelle's coat.
Evelyn screamed.
“Help!”
Another shot struck the wall.
Evelyn dragged Isabelle behind the concrete bench.
“Stay with me!”
Isabelle gripped her daughter's wrist.
“Listen.”
“Mom, you're bleeding.”
“Listen to me.”
Evelyn looked at her.
Isabelle whispered:
“Don't trust the man who comes to save you.”
A shadow moved across the far end of the platform.
Evelyn raised her weapon.
Footsteps approached.
Then a familiar voice called out.
“Evelyn!”
Nathan.
She looked up.
Nathan ran onto the platform.
Two federal agents followed him.
He dropped beside them.
“Where is the shooter?”
“Over there.”
Nathan looked toward the tunnel.
“Stay here.”
He moved forward.
Evelyn grabbed his arm.
“Don't.”
Nathan stopped.
“Your mother told you not to trust the man who comes to save you.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“How did you know?”
Nathan looked at Isabelle.
“She told me that too.”
Evelyn froze.
Isabelle's eyes opened.
She looked at Nathan.
“You came.”
Nathan nodded.
“I promised.”
Isabelle smiled faintly.
“You always did keep your promises.”
Evelyn stared between them.
“You two have been in contact.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Not recently.”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
Evelyn's face hardened.
“You knew she was alive for three years?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“Your mother asked me not to.”
“You married me.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You controlled me.”
“Yes.”
“You hurt me.”
Nathan looked down.
“Yes.”
Evelyn's voice cracked.
“Why should I ever believe another word you say?”
Nathan looked at her.
“You shouldn't.”
He stood.
“But you should believe what she is about to tell you.”
Isabelle reached for Evelyn's hand.
“There is one more thing.”
Evelyn knelt beside her.
“What?”
“The person who ordered the fire…”
Isabelle swallowed.
“…was not Victor.”
Evelyn stared.
“Who was it?”
Isabelle looked directly into her daughter's eyes.
“Someone who wanted all three of you separated.”
“Why?”
“Because one daughter had the money.”
“Amelia?”
“No.”
“Sophia?”
“No.”
Evelyn's heart stopped.
“Me?”
Isabelle nodded.
“You were the beneficiary.”
“But why separate all three of us?”
“Because each daughter carried one part of the truth.”
Evelyn's mind raced.
“The pendants.”
Isabelle nodded.
“One pendant held the financial archive.”
“The second?”
“The names.”
“And Sophia?”
Isabelle looked toward the darkness.
“She carries the memory.”
Evelyn frowned.
“What memory?”
“The night of the fire.”
Silence.
“She's the only one who saw the man's face.”
Evelyn's blood ran cold.
“Where is Sophia?”
Isabelle looked at Nathan.
Nathan's expression changed.
“She was taken.”
“By Adrian?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Nathan looked toward the tunnel.
“The man who came for her.”
Evelyn stood.
“Who?”
Nathan didn't answer.
A phone began ringing.
Everyone looked around.
It was Isabelle's phone.
Evelyn picked it up.
The screen showed an unknown number.
She answered.
A man's voice spoke.
“Isabelle.”
Her mother went pale.
“Gabriel.”
Evelyn froze.
The voice laughed softly.
“You always were difficult to kill.”
Evelyn looked at Nathan.
The voice continued.
“And now all three daughters are finally together.”
Evelyn's eyes widened.
“They're not.”
“They will be.”
The call ended.
Evelyn stared at the phone.
Nathan looked at her.
“What did he say?”
Evelyn whispered:
“He knows where Sophia is.”
Isabelle struggled to sit up.
“Then we have to move.”
Nathan helped her.
Evelyn looked at him.
“Where?”
Isabelle answered.
“Back to Blackthorn.”
Evelyn stared.
“Why?”
“Because that's where it began.”
Nathan shook his head.
“No.”
Isabelle looked at him.
“Yes.”
“It's compromised.”
“Exactly.”
Evelyn understood.
“The trap.”
Isabelle nodded.
“The trap was never Blackthorn.”
She looked at her daughter.
“It was the people who believed Blackthorn belonged to them.”
Outside, sirens approached.
Nathan looked toward the station entrance.
“We don't have much time.”
Evelyn took her mother's hand.
“Then tell me everything on the way.”
Isabelle smiled weakly.
“I've waited seventeen years for you to ask.”
They began walking toward the exit.
But before Evelyn crossed the threshold, she stopped.
She looked back at the dark platform.
Something was lying near the tracks.
A black-stone ring.
Evelyn walked over and picked it up.
There was blood on it.
Fresh blood.
And beneath the ring was a small piece of paper.
Three words were written on it.
HE WAS YOUR FATHER.
Evelyn stared.
Her hands began to shake.
Marcus.
Adrian.
Victor.
Gabriel.
Which father?
She turned toward Isabelle.
Her mother had seen the message.
The color drained from her face.
“Mom…”
Isabelle whispered:
“Don't ask me which one.”
Evelyn's heart pounded.
“Why?”
“Because that is the last secret I was trying to protect you from.”
And somewhere beneath Blackthorn Manor, a door opened.
A man stepped into the darkness.
He looked down at his hand.
The black-stone ring was missing.
He smiled.
Then he whispered:
May you like
“Bring my daughters home.”
TO BE CONTINUED
