A Contract Written In Hate

The Night She Disappeared

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Night She Disappeared

“Whoever sent that knows what really happened.”

My mother's words hung between us.

I held up my phone. “Then tell me the truth before someone else does.”

She looked towards Damian, but he shook his head.

“Don't look at me,” I said. “I'm done watching people exchange secrets while I'm the only person who knows nothing.”

My mother took a trembling breath.

“On the night your father died, I was supposed to meet him.”

“Where?”

“At the Cross estate.”

I stared at her. “You were there?”

“Yes. Your father had discovered that Victor was using the Vale Foundation to move money through accounts he controlled. He wanted me to take the evidence and leave London with you and Noah.”

“Then why didn't you?”

“Because Victor found out about our plan.”

She paused, fighting back tears.

“He threatened the children. Your father begged me to get you both somewhere safe while he dealt with Victor. I left the estate before he did.”

“And you never came back?”

“I tried. But the next morning, I was told your father was dead. Victor's people made me believe that if I appeared at his funeral, you and Noah would become targets.”

I shook my head, struggling to understand.

“So you let us bury you too?”

Her silence answered me.

I turned away, unable to look at her.

“What happened to the evidence?”

“Your father hid the original records. He told me there was a second copy, but he never revealed where it was.”

I remembered the ledger we had found.

“Was that the original?”

“No. It was only a record of some transactions.”

Damian finally spoke. “Your father left something else. My mother mentioned it before she died.”

My mother looked at him sharply.

“What did she say?”

“That Eleanor Cross was the second witness.”

The name seemed to drain the strength from my mother's face.

“No,” she whispered. “Eleanor was supposed to be protected.”

“Protected from whom?” I demanded.

Neither answered.

Suddenly, a loud bang came from the other side of the storage-room door.

“Open up!” Victor shouted.

Damian moved in front of us.

“There's a back exit,” he whispered. “Go.”

My mother grabbed my hand, but I pulled free.

“I'm not leaving without answers.”

“Serena, please!”

The desperation in her voice stopped me.

For the first time, I saw something beyond guilt in her eyes.

Fear.

“Victor wasn't the only person at the estate that night,” she whispered. “Someone else was there. Someone your father trusted completely.”

“Who?”

She opened her mouth.

The door handle rattled violently.

Then my mother's phone rang.

She looked at the screen and went completely still.

I glanced down.

The caller's name was displayed clearly.

NOAH.

My brother was supposed to be missing.

My mother answered with shaking fingers.

“Noah?”

A familiar voice came through the speaker.

“Mum?”

I stopped breathing.

It was really him.

“Where are you?” I cried, reaching for the phone.

But Noah wasn't speaking to me. His voice sounded distant, as though someone was standing beside him.

“Mum, listen carefully. I found something in Dad's old documents.”

My mother's face crumpled.

“What did you find, darling?”

There was a pause.

Then Noah whispered, “The person who caused Dad's accident wasn't Victor.”

My eyes met Damian's.

The voice continued.

“It was someone from our own family.”

The call abruptly disconnected.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Then my mother turned towards me, tears streaming down her face.

“Serena,” she whispered, “there's something about your father that I should have told you years ago.”

The door shook again.

And before she could finish, Damian said the words that changed everything.

“Your father wasn't your biological father.”

To be continued…