Chapter 10 - The Archive Beneath the Estate|
The old Blackwood estate stood on the outskirts of Chicago, hidden behind iron gates and a line of ancient oak trees. Ethan had told me the property was abandoned after his father's death, but the security cameras were new, and the grounds showed signs of recent maintenance.
We arrived shortly before midnight.
Ethan had insisted on coming despite his injuries. His right leg was braced, and he leaned heavily on a cane, but he refused to remain behind.
“I've spent my whole life letting other people tell me what I need to know,” he said. “Not anymore.”
The key from my mother opened a narrow service entrance behind the main house.
Inside, dust covered the furniture, but the corridor beyond the kitchen was clean. We followed it to a stone staircase leading underground.
At the bottom stood a steel door with a digital keypad.
Marcus examined the lock.
“Someone has been here recently.”
Detective Ruiz pointed to a camera mounted in the ceiling.
“Then someone knows we're here.”
I inserted the brass key into a small slot beneath the keypad.
A green light flashed.
The door opened.
The archive contained rows of metal cabinets, computer servers, and boxes labeled with dates. It looked less like a family vault than a private intelligence center.
Ethan opened the first cabinet.
Inside were financial records documenting payments to shell companies, judges, police officers, and medical administrators. Another cabinet contained surveillance photographs of me entering the hospital, leaving my mother's house, and attending prenatal consultations with patients.
Someone had been tracking my movements for years.
“Why would they monitor you?” Ruiz asked.
I found a folder bearing my maiden name.
Inside was a copy of my father's medical license, an old hospital photograph, and a document showing that he had treated an unidentified patient twenty years earlier.
The patient was listed as E. Blackwood.
Ethan stared at it.
“My father?”
“Maybe,” I said.
He turned the page.
A handwritten note was attached.
The heir must never learn what happened that night. If he does, the family will split in two.
Behind the note was a photograph of three men standing outside the estate.
Ethan's father was in the center.
Richard stood on his right.
The third man looked almost exactly like Ethan.
Except Ethan was standing beside me, alive, and the photograph was dated fifteen years before he was born.
A sound echoed from the corridor.
Footsteps.
Marcus drew his weapon.
“Someone's coming.”
The lights went out.
A gunshot cracked through the archive.
Ethan grabbed my arm, pulling me behind a cabinet as Detective Ruiz shouted for everyone to get down.
When the emergency lights flickered on, the steel door stood open.
One cabinet had been emptied.
And the photograph of the three men was gone.
May you like
On the floor lay a fresh note.
ASK YOUR MOTHER WHO YOUR FATHER REALLY WAS.
