Chapter 9 - THE DAUGHTER WHO DISAPPEAREDThe investigation expanded overnight.
Margaret refused to speak.
Richard demanded a lawyer.
But Daniel had already found another lead.
The photograph of Mark's missing sister had been taken only three years earlier.
That meant she was alive.
Mark couldn't understand it.
“My father told me I was his only child.”
“He lied,” Daniel said.
“Why?”
“To protect her.”
“From Blackwood?”
“Yes.”
“What was her name?”
“Lydia.”
Mark repeated it quietly.
“Lydia.”
Victoria sat across from him.
“Your father sent her away when she was fourteen.”
“Where?”
“Another state.”
“Why?”
“Because Margaret discovered her existence.”
Mark stared at Victoria.
“How did you know?”
“Your father told me.”
“You knew about my sister before we married.”
“Yes.”
“You knew all these years.”
Victoria lowered her eyes.
“I promised him I would protect her.”
Mark was furious.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“Everyone keeps deciding what I can handle.”
Victoria cried.
“Because everyone thought you were safer not knowing.”
Mark stood.
“No more secrets.”
Daniel entered with a file.
“We found her.”
Mark turned.
“Where?”
“A small town in Oregon.”
“Is she safe?”
“For now.”
They traveled the next morning.
Lydia opened the door herself.
She looked at Mark.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she whispered:
“You look like Dad.”
Mark's eyes filled with tears.
“I've been looking for you.”
“You didn't know I existed.”
“No.”
Lydia looked at Victoria.
“You did.”
Victoria nodded.
“I promised your father.”
Lydia stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Inside the small house were dozens of photographs.
Mark saw his father.
His mother.
Victoria.
Daniel.
And himself.
Lydia explained.
“Dad visited every year.”
Mark swallowed.
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“He thought you would be targeted.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“By Blackwood?”
Lydia nodded.
“They came twice.”
“What did you do?”
“I ran.”
She handed Mark a small box.
“Dad gave me this.”
Inside was a key and a letter.
Mark opened the letter.
His father's handwriting.
My son,
If you ever meet Lydia, tell her I was sorry.
I chose silence because I believed silence would protect you.
I was wrong.
The network I built became something I could no longer control.
Richard will try to inherit it.
Margaret will try to preserve it.
But neither of them is the final threat.
The final threat is the person who knows how everything began.
Mark looked at Daniel.
“Who?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then Lydia whispered:
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
Lydia looked at Victoria.
“The person who knew everything was Mom.”
Mark stared.
“My mother?”
“She didn't die naturally.”
Mark felt his heart stop.
“What are you saying?”
Lydia opened another box.
Inside were medical records.
His mother's death had been classified as an accident.
But the records showed evidence of poisoning.
Mark looked at Victoria.
“You knew?”
Victoria shook her head.
“No.”
Lydia said:
“Dad suspected Margaret.”
Daniel added:
“But he never proved it.”
Mark closed his eyes.
The entire family history had become a maze.
Then Lydia pointed to the key.
“That opens Dad's final safe.”
“Where?”
She looked at him.
“In the old family cemetery.”
They returned to the city.
At the cemetery, Mark found a small metal compartment beneath his father's grave marker.
The key opened it.
Inside was a single file.
One name.
A photograph.
Mark looked at the photograph.
His blood turned cold.
The person standing beside his father was someone he had trusted for years.
Someone who had attended family dinners.
Someone who had comforted Mark after his father's death.
Someone who had never been suspected.
Elena looked at the photograph.
“Who is that?”
Mark whispered:
“Uncle Thomas.”
Then his phone rang.
Thomas was calling.
Mark answered.
A calm voice said:
“I know you found the file.”
Mark looked toward Elena.
“How?”
Thomas laughed.
May you like
“Because I put it there.”
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