Chapter 7 - MY MOTHER'S VOICE
I couldn't breathe.
"Mom?"
The line remained silent.
Then she said:
"You should never have opened the east wing."
"Where are my children?"
"Safe."
"Put them on."
"No."
"Then tell me where they are."
"You aren't ready."
"I don't care."
"Daniel, listen to me."
"No. You listen."
My hands were shaking.
"You lied to me my entire life."
"I protected you."
"From what?"
"From the truth."
"I want the truth now."
She sighed.
"Then come alone."
I looked at Michael.
He was already shaking his head.
"Don't go."
My mother continued.
"If you bring anyone, you will never see Noah again."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Vanessa whispered:
"She's bluffing."
Michael looked at her.
"No."
"You know where she is?"
"I know where she wants him to go."
I turned.
"Where?"
"The old chapel."
We drove there.
The chapel had been abandoned for years.
My father used to take me there when I was a child.
The doors were unlocked.
Inside, candles burned along the altar.
And there was my mother.
She looked older than I remembered.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
A walking cane.
But it was her.
I stopped.
"Mom."
She looked at me.
"Daniel."
I wanted to hug her.
I wanted to scream.
Instead I asked:
"Where are my children?"
She pointed toward the side room.
"They're safe."
I ran.
Noah and Lily were sitting together.
The moment they saw me, they ran into my arms.
I held them tightly.
"Are you okay?"
Noah nodded.
Lily cried.
I looked at my mother.
"What is happening?"
She lowered herself into a chair.
"I thought I had more time."
"For what?"
"To protect you."
"From Caldwell?"
She shook her head.
"From Michael."
My brother stepped into the chapel.
My mother looked at him.
"Hello, son."
Michael froze.
"You knew."
"Of course."
"Why did you let me believe you were dead?"
"Because you were safer that way."
He laughed bitterly.
"You destroyed my life."
"I saved it."
"You made Daniel hate me before he even knew me."
She looked at me.
"I had to."
I couldn't understand.
"Why?"
My mother looked at Noah.
"Because Michael is not your brother."
Silence.
Michael's face went white.
I stared at her.
"What did you say?"
She whispered:
"Your father had another son."
She pointed at Michael.
"But he wasn't the boy in the photograph."
My entire world shifted.
"Then who is he?"
My mother looked at Michael with tears in her eyes.
"The boy in the photograph died eighteen years ago."
Michael stepped backward.
"You're lying."
"No."
May you like
She looked at me.
"Daniel, this man has been pretending to be your brother."
