behind the bodyguard's silence

chapter five

The old Carter estate had been abandoned for almost ten years.

Clara remembered it from childhood.

She remembered the enormous iron gates, the overgrown gardens, and the long gravel driveway that seemed to disappear into the trees.

Her father had sold the property after her mother's death.

At least, that was what he had told her.

Now, as Noah's vehicle passed through the rusted gates, Clara wondered how many other things her father had lied about.

The house appeared through the trees.

Dark.

Silent.

Forgotten.

Noah slowed the vehicle.

"Stay inside."

Clara looked at him.

"You said they found my father."

"They found his car."

Her stomach tightened.

"You didn't say that."

"I didn't want you assuming he's safe."

She looked toward the house.

"Is he alive?"

"We don't know."

Noah stopped the car.

Two police vehicles were parked near the entrance.

Several officers stood outside.

Clara opened her door.

Noah immediately reached across.

"Wait."

She looked at him.

"What?"

"I need to check the area first."

"My father could be inside."

"I know."

"Then let me go."

He held her gaze for a moment.

"Stay behind me."

She nodded.

They stepped out.

The air was cold.

The estate seemed unnaturally quiet.

Noah studied the surroundings.

His attention moved from the windows to the trees, then to the roof.

Clara watched him.

"You've been here before."

He didn't answer.

"You have."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Years ago."

"With my mother?"

He stopped.

"Yes."

Clara stared at him.

"You knew her well."

"No."

"But you protected her."

"That doesn't mean I knew her."

"Then why do you look like you're remembering something?"

Noah looked toward the house.

"Because I am."

Before Clara could ask anything else, a detective approached.

"Mr. Hayes."

Noah turned.

"What have you found?"

"We found Mr. Carter's vehicle in the garage."

"Any sign of him?"

"No."

The detective handed him a photograph.

"There was blood on the driver's seat."

Clara's face went pale.

"Blood?"

Noah immediately looked at her.

"Clara."

"Is it my father's?"

"We don't know yet."

She took a shaky breath.

"I need to go inside."

Noah nodded.

"Stay close."

---

The interior of the old house was covered in dust.

Furniture stood beneath white sheets.

Portraits still hung on the walls.

Clara walked slowly through the entrance hall.

She remembered running through this house as a child.

Her mother used to laugh when Clara hid behind the curtains.

Her father used to complain about the noise.

The memories were so vivid that she almost expected to hear her mother's voice.

Instead, there was only silence.

Noah walked ahead.

They reached the study.

The room looked untouched.

Then Clara stopped.

A photograph sat on the desk.

She picked it up.

It showed her parents.

They were younger.

Happy.

But there was someone else standing behind them.

A man.

Clara looked closer.

She recognized him.

"No."

Noah looked at the photograph.

"Who is that?"

Clara pointed.

"That's Daniel."

The same man who had appeared in the photograph beside her father.

But this picture was different.

It had been taken years before Clara's mother supposedly died.

Noah studied it.

"How old were you when this was taken?"

"About six."

"Then Daniel had already been working for your father."

"Yes."

Noah turned the photograph over.

There was a date written on the back.

Then a second line.

The night everything changed.

Clara looked at Noah.

"What does that mean?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know."

A sound came from upstairs.

Both froze.

Noah immediately moved in front of Clara.

"Stay here."

She whispered, "No."

"Clara."

"I heard it too."

Another sound.

A door closing.

Noah drew his attention toward the staircase.

Then he moved.

Clara followed.

They reached the upper floor.

A bedroom door was open.

Noah entered first.

The room was empty.

But something lay on the bed.

A coat.

Clara recognized it.

"My father."

She rushed forward.

Noah stopped her.

"Don't touch it."

She froze.

He examined the coat.

There was blood on the sleeve.

Clara's eyes filled with tears.

"He's hurt."

"Maybe."

"Then where is he?"

Noah checked the room.

There was a small piece of paper on the floor.

He picked it up.

Three words were written on it.

UNDER THE HOUSE.

Clara stared at him.

"There's something underneath this house?"

Noah looked toward the floor.

"Probably."

---

They discovered the entrance twenty minutes later.

It was hidden behind a bookcase in the study.

Noah pushed the shelf aside.

A narrow staircase descended into darkness.

Clara stared down.

"My father knew about this."

"Apparently."

"Why would there be a secret room beneath the house?"

"We're about to find out."

They descended.

The air became colder.

At the bottom was a long corridor.

The walls were covered with old photographs and documents.

Clara stopped.

There were photographs of her family everywhere.

Her father.

Her mother.

Clara herself.

Some were from years ago.

Some were recent.

She touched one of the photographs.

"This isn't possible."

Noah looked at it.

It showed Clara leaving university.

The same photograph that had been sent to them earlier.

"Someone has been using this place to watch you."

Clara looked around.

"How long?"

Noah didn't answer.

Then they heard something.

A faint sound.

A voice.

"Clara."

Her heart stopped.

"Dad?"

She ran down the corridor.

Noah followed.

They reached a locked room.

A voice came from inside.

"Clara?"

It was her father.

Alive.

She nearly collapsed with relief.

"Dad!"

Noah forced the door open.

Richard Carter was sitting against the wall.

He looked exhausted but conscious.

Clara rushed toward him.

"Dad!"

He held her tightly.

"I'm sorry."

She pulled back.

"Where have you been?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Who did this?"

He looked at Noah.

Then his expression changed.

"You brought him."

Clara frowned.

"Of course I did."

Her father stared at Noah.

"You shouldn't have."

Noah's face became serious.

"What do you mean?"

Richard shook his head.

"She can't know."

Clara stared at him.

"Know what?"

Her father looked at her.

Then at Noah.

"Your mother is alive."

The world seemed to stop.

Clara couldn't breathe.

"What?"

Richard's eyes filled with regret.

"I lied to you because I thought it was the only way to keep you safe."

"No."

"Clara—"

"You told me she died."

"I know."

"You let me believe that for twelve years."

"I was trying to protect you."

"From what?"

Her father looked toward Noah.

"From the people who took her."

Clara's voice shook.

"Who took my mother?"

Richard closed his eyes.

"The Black Meridian."

Noah stepped forward.

"When?"

Richard looked at him.

"The night you failed to protect her."

Noah went completely still.

Clara looked between them.

"What does that mean?"

Her father didn't answer.

Then footsteps echoed from somewhere above.

Noah immediately turned toward the stairs.

Someone was coming.

Richard grabbed Clara's wrist.

"Listen to me."

She looked at him.

"If you want to find your mother, you cannot trust everyone around you."

His eyes moved toward Noah.

Clara noticed.

Her heart sank.

"Dad..."

Richard whispered:

"Especially him."

The lights beneath the house suddenly went out.

And from the darkness came a voice Clara had not heard since childhood.

A woman's voice.

Her mother's voice.

"Clara."

She froze.

Then the voice spoke again.

"Run."

And somewhere above them, the old house erupted with the sound of breaking glass.