Chapter 7 - The Woman Who Was Buried Twelve Years Ago
Lucian dropped the phone when his mother's voice whispered, "Gabriel is standing right behind you."
The device struck the floor.
Nobody moved.
Mara stared at Lucian, watching the color drain from his face. She had seen him furious, wounded, and frighteningly calm, but never like this.
He looked like a man who had just heard the dead call him by name.
Daniel reached for the phone.
"Don't," Lucian snapped.
The screen remained illuminated.
The call was still connected.
From the speaker came a faint sound.
A woman's breathing.
Then three soft knocks.
Lucian slowly turned toward the hallway.
Behind him, the security monitor flickered.
The camera feed showed the east corridor, the staircase, and the closed door to Mara's bedroom.
At the far end of the hallway stood a man in a gray coat.
His face was hidden in shadow.
Mara's stomach tightened.
"Is that Gabriel?"
Lucian didn't answer.
The man on the screen lifted his head.
Then the image went black.
Daniel reached for his weapon.
"Boss, stay here."
Lucian ignored him and walked toward the hallway.
Mara followed.
"Lucian, wait."
He stopped long enough to look at her.
"Stay behind me."
She shook her head.
"I'm not hiding in another room while everyone decides what my life means."
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes.
Then he nodded.
"Stay close."
They moved down the corridor together.
Every door stood open.
The security lights hummed overhead.
At the end of the hallway, the door to Mara's bedroom hung slightly ajar.
Lucian pushed it open.
The room was empty.
The bed had been disturbed, the drawers pulled out, and the curtains moved gently in the air from an open window.
Daniel checked the adjoining bathroom.
"Nobody here."
Mara stared at the window.
"We're on the second floor."
Lucian approached it.
Outside, a narrow stone ledge ran along the building toward the garden.
Someone could have climbed out.
But why would they risk that when the front doors were unlocked?
Daniel examined the latch.
"No damage."
Lucian turned toward the hallway.
"Lock down the property. Nobody enters or leaves without my approval."
Daniel nodded and hurried away.
Mara remained near the window.
"Lucian?"
He turned.
"That voice on the phone. Was it really your mother?"
His jaw tightened.
"I don't know."
"But you recognized her."
"Yes."
She waited.
He looked down at the phone lying on the floor.
"My mother died when I was twenty-four. I identified her body myself."
Mara felt a chill.
"Then how could she have called you?"
Lucian shook his head.
"That's what I intend to find out."
The phone suddenly rang again.
Both of them froze.
The screen displayed a single word.
MOTHER.
Lucian stared at it.
Then he answered.
"Who is this?"
A woman spoke through the speaker.
"Lucian, darling, you need to listen to me."
He closed his eyes.
It was the same voice.
The same gentle cadence.
The same slight rasp that appeared whenever she was frightened.
"Where are you?" he demanded.
"Somewhere your father cannot find me."
"You're dead."
A long silence followed.
Then the woman whispered, "I know what he told you."
Lucian's hand tightened around the phone.
"Tell me something only my mother would know."
The answer came immediately.
"When you were eight, you broke your father's favorite watch. You hid the pieces inside the piano bench because you thought he'd blame the dog."
Lucian went completely still.
Mara watched him.
The woman continued.
"You cried for three hours. I told you that telling the truth would be easier than carrying a lie."
Lucian's eyes filled.
He turned away from Mara.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you yet."
"Why?"
"Because the man who killed your father is listening."
Lucian's face hardened.
"My father is alive."
"I know."
"Then tell me where he is."
"Not until you understand what happened twelve years ago."
A faint noise sounded through the phone.
A door opening.
The woman gasped.
"Lucian, I don't have much time."
He stepped closer to the window.
"Tell me about Gabriel."
Her voice trembled.
"Gabriel isn't the person you think he is."
Before Lucian could ask another question, the call ended.
He stood motionless.
Mara approached carefully.
"What did she say?"
He looked at her.
"That my father lied about everything."
Twenty minutes later, everyone gathered in the main sitting room.
Daniel had secured the doors and assigned guards to the perimeter. Peter examined the phone, trying to identify the source of the calls.
Isabella sat beside the fireplace, clutching a photograph of the two newborn babies.
Lucian stood near the window.
He hadn't spoken since the call ended.
Mara watched him from the sofa.
She wanted to comfort him, but she understood what it meant to have the foundation of your life suddenly disappear.
When she had learned that her mother was alive, she had felt anger, grief, and relief all at once.
Lucian was experiencing something worse.
He had buried both parents in his mind.
Now one might still be alive, and the other had supposedly been hiding the truth.
Peter finally looked up from the phone.
"The call was routed through three different servers."
Lucian turned.
"Can you trace it?"
"Not immediately. Whoever placed it knew how to conceal the origin."
Daniel folded his arms.
"Could Gabriel have made the call?"
Peter shook his head.
"The voice sounded female."
"That doesn't answer the question."
Peter looked at him.
"No. It doesn't."
Lucian approached the table.
"Find out whether someone accessed my mother's medical records."
Daniel nodded.
"Already working on it."
Mara looked at Isabella.
"Did you know Lucian's mother?"
Isabella shook her head.
"Not personally. But my mother did."
"Helena?"
"Yes. They worked together at Chicago Memorial Hospital."
Mara leaned forward.
"What did your mother tell you about her?"
Isabella hesitated.
"That she was the kindest woman she'd ever met. And that she was terrified of her husband."
Lucian turned sharply.
"Why?"
Isabella looked at him.
"Because your father had discovered something about your birth."
Silence fell.
Lucian's expression changed.
"My birth?"
Isabella nodded.
"My mother said your father believed you were the only person who could expose Charles Mercer."
Lucian stared at her.
"How?"
"Because your birth records were altered."
Mara felt her heart begin to race.
The two babies.
The silver bracelets.
The hidden financial records.
Everything seemed to circle back to the same night.
Lucian spoke carefully.
"Are you suggesting I wasn't born to my parents?"
"No," Isabella replied. "I'm suggesting someone changed the records to make it appear that you were born on a different date."
Lucian's expression hardened.
"That's absurd."
"Maybe. But my mother kept a copy of the original hospital register."
"Where is it?"
Isabella looked down at the photograph in her hands.
"I don't know."
Mara noticed her fingers trembling.
"Isabella?"
The woman looked up.
"There's something else."
She placed the photograph on the table.
On the back, beneath the handwritten date, was a small hospital identification number.
Isabella pointed to it.
"My mother told me that this number belonged to a child who had been declared dead."
Lucian leaned closer.
"Which child?"
Isabella swallowed.
"Gabriel."
Across town, Eleanor Bennett sat alone in a dimly lit apartment.
The curtains were drawn.
A single lamp illuminated the table before her.
On it lay three objects.
A photograph of her daughters.
A hospital bracelet.
And a sealed letter addressed to Mara.
Eleanor stared at the photograph.
She remembered the day it had been taken.
Mara had been seven.
Sophie had been four.
Thomas had stood behind them with his arms around their shoulders, smiling at the camera.
It had been the last family photograph before everything changed.
A knock sounded at the door.
Eleanor immediately stood.
"Who is it?"
A man's voice answered.
"Someone who can help you."
She backed away from the door.
"I don't need help."
The man laughed softly.
"That's what you said twelve years ago."
Eleanor's face went white.
She looked toward the kitchen.
The back door was locked.
The windows were secured.
There was nowhere to go.
The knock came again.
"Open the door, Eleanor."
She reached for her phone.
No signal.
Her hands began trembling.
"Who are you?"
The man answered quietly.
"You know exactly who I am."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
She had spent twelve years trying to forget that voice.
Twelve years believing she had escaped the people who destroyed her family.
Now it had returned.
And it knew where she lived.
She reached beneath the table and pulled out a small revolver.
Then she moved toward the door.
"Leave."
The man sighed.
"I didn't come to hurt you."
"Then go away."
"I came to tell you that Gabriel is alive."
Eleanor froze.
The weapon lowered slightly.
"What?"
"And he's looking for Mara."
Eleanor's grip tightened.
"No."
The man continued.
"He knows about the marriage certificate. He knows about the ledger. And he knows who signed the original birth records."
Eleanor felt the room spin.
"That's impossible."
The man leaned closer to the door.
"Then you should have no problem opening it."
Eleanor looked at the sealed letter on the table.
She had promised Thomas she would never reveal its contents unless Mara was in immediate danger.
Now the danger was standing outside her door.
She stepped closer.
"If I open this door, will you leave my daughters alone?"
The man was silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"I can promise you one thing."
Eleanor swallowed.
"What?"
"I won't be the one who hurts them."
She knew what that meant.
She unlocked the door.
And when she opened it, the man standing outside was the last person she had expected to see.
At the Moretti residence, Lucian paced the sitting room while Peter continued searching the hospital records.
Mara watched him.
He had always been controlled, even when angry.
Now his movements were restless.
"Lucian," she said.
He stopped.
"You need to sit down."
He almost smiled.
"You're telling me to sit down?"
"Yes."
"After everything you've learned tonight?"
"Especially after everything I've learned tonight."
He studied her for a moment, then sat beside her.
Mara reached for his hand.
He looked at their joined fingers.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Finally, he said, "I don't know who I am anymore."
Her chest tightened.
"You are still you."
"What if my entire childhood was built on lies?"
"Mine was."
He looked at her.
She continued softly.
"I thought my father was an ordinary accountant. I thought my mother was dead. I thought Adrian loved me."
Her voice trembled.
"I don't know how to trust my memories anymore."
Lucian squeezed her hand.
"Neither do I."
Mara leaned closer.
"But I remember you."
He looked at her.
"I remember the man who bought every poetry book in a bookstore because he wanted an excuse to see me."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"You told me I was wasting money."
"You were."
"I still have those books."
Mara's eyes filled.
"Of course you do."
For a moment, the years between them seemed smaller.
Then Lucian lowered his gaze.
"I should have looked harder for you."
Mara shook her head.
"You couldn't have known."
"I knew you were afraid."
"But you didn't know why."
He was silent.
She touched his cheek.
"You don't have to punish yourself for what other people did."
Lucian closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, he looked at her with an honesty that made her heart ache.
"I loved you then."
Mara swallowed.
"And now?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "I never stopped."
She looked away, struggling to breathe.
"I don't know if I can be the woman you remember."
"I don't expect you to be."
He brushed his thumb across her knuckles.
"I want to know the woman you are now."
Mara leaned against his shoulder.
For the first time since leaving him, she didn't feel the need to explain herself.
They sat quietly until Daniel approached.
"Boss, we found something."
Lucian straightened.
"What?"
Daniel held up a printed hospital record.
"We accessed the archived death registry."
Lucian took the page.
His eyes moved across the text.
Then stopped.
The record listed his mother, Sophia Moretti, as deceased twelve years earlier.
But the date of death had been entered three days after her supposed funeral.
Lucian frowned.
"That's impossible."
Peter stepped closer.
"There's more."
He placed another document beside it.
A hospital admission record dated two days after the funeral.
The patient's name had been changed.
But the identification number matched Sophia's original file.
Mara stared.
"She was admitted to the hospital after she was supposedly buried?"
Peter nodded.
"Under an alias."
Lucian looked at the signature.
He recognized it immediately.
His father's.
Vittorio Moretti had signed the admission paperwork.
Lucian's face hardened.
"He knew she was alive."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"It appears so."
Lucian stared at the page.
Then he noticed a handwritten note in the margin.
Five words.
Transfer patient to Ward Seven.
He looked at Peter.
"Where is Ward Seven?"
Peter's face changed.
"That wasn't a hospital ward."
"Then what was it?"
Peter took the document and examined the bottom corner.
A tiny code had been stamped beside the note.
R-17.
Mara felt a chill.
She had seen those characters before.
On the back of the photograph in her father's video.
And beneath the hospital number written beside the names of the two newborn babies.
"Lucian," she whispered.
He turned toward her.
She pointed at the page.
"That's the same code from my father's records."
Peter went pale.
"Then this isn't just about your parents."
Lucian slowly stood.
"What is it about?"
Peter looked toward the locked front door.
"It's about the place where they kept the children."
At 2:13 a.m., Daniel received a message from an unknown number.
He read it once.
Then again.
His expression changed.
Lucian noticed immediately.
"What?"
Daniel held out the phone.
The message contained a photograph of a narrow hospital corridor.
At the far end stood a woman in a white coat.
Her face was turned away from the camera.
Beneath the photograph was a single line.
Your mother remembers what happened in Ward Seven.
Lucian stared at the image.
Another message arrived.
Come alone if you want to see her.
Daniel shook his head.
"It's a trap."
"Probably," Lucian replied.
"Then you're not going."
Lucian looked at him.
"My mother might be alive."
"And Gabriel knows that."
Lucian's expression hardened.
"I don't care."
Mara stood.
"You're not going alone."
Lucian turned toward her.
"No."
"Lucian—"
"No."
His voice was sharper than he intended.
He immediately softened it.
"Mara, I won't risk your safety."
She stepped closer.
"You don't get to decide everything for me."
He looked at her.
She continued.
"I spent three years being told where I could go, who I could speak to, and what I was allowed to know. I'm not going back to that."
Lucian's expression changed.
He understood.
Finally, he nodded.
"You stay with Daniel and Peter. If we confirm the location is safe, we'll decide what happens next."
Mara reluctantly agreed.
Lucian took his coat.
Before leaving, he turned toward her.
"I'll call you as soon as I know anything."
She reached for his hand.
"Promise me you'll come back."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"I promise."
The door closed behind him.
Mara remained standing in the hallway.
She didn't know whether to trust the promise.
She only knew that she couldn't bear to lose him again.
At 2:47 a.m., Lucian arrived at an abandoned medical facility on the south side of Chicago.
Daniel had insisted on accompanying him despite the message's warning.
Two security vehicles remained several blocks away.
The building stood behind a rusted fence, its windows dark and its entrance sealed with metal panels.
A faded sign hung above the door.
CHICAGO MEMORIAL — ANNEX R
Lucian stared at it.
R-17.
The code from the records.
Daniel approached the entrance.
"The facility was closed twelve years ago."
"Officially?"
"Officially."
Lucian examined the lock.
It had been replaced recently.
He looked toward the windows.
One upstairs room glowed faintly.
Someone was inside.
A phone vibrated in his pocket.
A message from the unknown number.
Second floor. Room seventeen.
Lucian looked at Daniel.
"Stay here."
Daniel shook his head.
"No chance."
They entered through a side door.
Inside, the corridor smelled of dust and disinfectant.
The lights flickered overhead.
Old medical equipment stood beneath plastic covers.
At the far end, a staircase led to the second floor.
Lucian climbed quietly.
Room seventeen stood at the end of a narrow hallway.
Its door was slightly open.
He pushed it inward.
A woman sat beside the window.
Her silver hair fell over her shoulders.
Her hands rested in her lap.
She wore a pale blue hospital gown.
Lucian stopped breathing.
"Mother?"
The woman turned.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Lucian."
He crossed the room in three strides and dropped to his knees before her.
She touched his face.
"My boy."
For a moment, neither could speak.
Then Lucian pulled back.
"Why didn't you come home?"
Sophia looked toward the door.
"Because your father wouldn't let me."
Lucian stared.
"What?"
"He said he was protecting you."
She gripped his hand.
"But he was protecting someone else."
Lucian's face hardened.
"Who?"
Sophia began to cry.
"The child they took from the nursery."
"Gabriel?"
She shook her head.
"No."
She looked directly into her son's eyes.
"Gabriel was never the baby they stole."
Lucian felt the floor shift beneath him.
"Then who was?"
Sophia opened her mouth.
But before she could answer, the lights went out.
A door slammed somewhere behind them.
Daniel shouted from the corridor.
"Lucian!"
A sharp crack echoed through the building.
Sophia grabbed her son's wrist.
"Don't trust Daniel!"
Lucian turned toward the doorway.
And in the darkness, someone whispered his name.
Not Daniel's voice.
Not his mother's.
A third voice.
One he had heard only once before.
The night he buried his father.
"Lucian..."
Then the emergency lights flickered on.
And standing in the doorway was Vittorio Moretti, holding a photograph of two newborn babies.
May you like
One of them was Mara.
The other was Lucian.
