No One Owns Me

Chapter 13 — The Lie We Were Told

“Where is she?”

My voice cracks, barely loud enough to hear. Duncan is still staring at the photograph like it might burn him, all the strength draining out of his shoulders. He looks like a man who’s spent seventeen years carrying a grave on his back, only to find it was never filled.

Ward steps closer, gentle but steady. “Duncan?”

No answer. I reach out and take the photograph from his trembling fingers.

“Dad. Look at me.”

His eyes finally meet mine. They’re red, raw. “I don’t know. I swear to you, Casey—I don’t know.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escapes me. Not because it’s funny. Because I’m so tired of those three words. “You don’t know?”

“I believed she was dead.” He says it like he’s begging me to understand. “Everyone said she died that night. The hospital. The Crown. The reports. I had no reason to doubt it.”

“Believed.” I step closer. “You didn’t say you knew. You said you believed.”

He closes his eyes. “There were… inconsistencies. Things that didn’t add up. But I had no proof. No trail. Nothing but a feeling that wouldn’t go away.”

“So you suspected. And you said nothing.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

The words hang there, heavy and familiar. I shake my head, anger rising hot and sharp. “There it is again. Everyone uses that excuse. Everyone decides what I’m allowed to know.”

“I lost her.” His voice breaks. “I lost you, too. For eleven years I didn’t know if you were breathing. I couldn’t risk giving you hope that might break you all over again.”

I look away, my anger softening into something heavier, something that aches. I know that fear. I’ve hidden the truth, too. I’ve kept secrets to keep myself safe. Maybe we’re more alike than I want to admit.

Ward shifts beside me, quiet until now. “Casey.”

I glance at him. “I’m not okay.”

He nods simply. “Okay.”

No empty promises. No it’ll be fine. Just okay. For the first time all night, my chest loosens just a little.

I look down at the photograph again—Mia’s smile, the way her hand rests on Isabella’s shoulder, the date stamped clear in the corner. “She’s alive. Six years ago, she was alive.”

Duncan’s voice is tight. “We don’t know what happened after that.”

“Then we find out.”

Ward nods firmly. “She’s right. We don’t stop now.”

Duncan looks at him, half exasperated, half proud. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one.”

“Someone has to back her up.” Ward meets his gaze. “She doesn’t need caution right now. She needs answers.”

I give him a small, grateful smile. He smiles back.

Then—creak.

A floorboard from downstairs.

We all freeze. Duncan’s gun snaps up. “Stay here.”

Ward moves to cover him. I follow.

Duncan glances back. “Casey.”

“I’m coming.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then sees the set of my jaw—the same look he wears when he won’t back down. He sighs. “Fine. Stick close.”

We move down the stairs, silent as shadows. The front door is still locked. But the back door stands wide open, night air gusting through the hallway.

Drake steps out of the kitchen, his face grim. “Lock’s been smashed. They were in here.”

“Alone?”

“Looks like it.” Ward crouches by the threshold, studying the dirt on the tiles. “One set of prints. Light. Deliberate. They didn’t ransack the place. Didn’t take anything.”

I look at the table by the door. There’s another envelope sitting there.

“No.” Duncan reaches for it, but I’m already moving.

My name is written on the front—Casey & Isabella. The same looping script.

“Careful,” Ward warns.

I break the seal. Inside is a single scrap of paper, three words scrawled in ink:

SHE’S WAITING.

“Who?” I whisper.

Isabella appears at the bottom of the stairs, pale and wide-eyed. “What is it?”

I hold out the note. She reads it, and her hand flies to her mouth.

“Isabella?” I step toward her. “Do you know who this means?”

She looks at the open door, then back at me, tears spilling over. “She’s waiting for us. Mum.”

Silence swallows the house. Duncan sways, catching himself on the banister.

“Do you remember where you saw her last?” I ask softly.

She nods slowly. “I was six. We met in secret. Somewhere she said no one would look.”

“Where?”

“A church.” She closes her eyes, searching. “Old stone. Broken bell tower. Overgrown with ivy. Outside Kingsman.”

Duncan goes white as a sheet. “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Only one church fits that description. Saint Michael’s.” He looks at me, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It was abandoned seventeen years ago. Boarded up. Locked tight.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the last place anyone ever saw your mother. Before she vanished.”

I grip the photograph until my knuckles ache. It’s not a ghost we’re chasing. It’s a trail. One she left for us, step by step, clue by clue.

I look at Isabella, then Duncan, then Ward.

“We’re going.”

Duncan lets out a long breath. “Of course we are.”

Ward heads for the door, already pulling his keys. “I’ll bring the car round.”

“You’re coming?”

He pauses, grinning. “Thought we established that. I don’t leave you when things get dangerous.”

“I might have been being dramatic.”

“Still counts.”

I shake my head, but I’m smiling.

We step out into the dark, the wind cold against my face. For the first time in my life, I’m not running from the past. I’m walking straight toward it.

Somewhere in that old, locked church… my mother is waiting.

And this time, nothing will keep us apart.