Chapter 8 - Ten MinutesMarcus looked at the paper in his hand.
YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES.
He raised his eyes toward the motel door.
Nobody moved.
Nia stood beside the bed, gripping the sleeve of Elena's sweatshirt.
“Dad,” she whispered, “what does it mean?”
Marcus folded the note.
“It means we're leaving.”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
Marcus looked at her.
“We have ten minutes.”
“That is exactly what they want.”
“Then what do they want?”
“To make us run.”
A second footstep sounded outside.
Closer.
Marcus moved toward the window.
“Elena, how many exits?”
“Two.”
“Show me.”
She pointed toward the bathroom.
“Through there. The adjoining room is empty.”
Marcus crossed the room and checked the bathroom window.
Painted shut.
He tried it anyway.
Nothing.
“Great.”
Elena grabbed the motel curtains and pulled them closed.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
“Listen to me.”
“I've been listening all night.”
“No. You've been reacting.”
She stepped closer.
“The person outside doesn't necessarily want Nia.”
“Then who?”
“Me.”
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Because I know where the originals are.”
“What originals?”
“The records Eleanor spent years trying to erase.”
Nia stared at them.
“What records?”
Elena looked at her daughter.
“Your birth records. The trust documents. The custody agreement.”
Nia frowned.
“Why would anyone care about those?”
“Because they prove who your parents are.”
Marcus looked at Celeste's name on the list.
“No.”
Elena stopped.
Marcus pointed at the paper.
“That's not the real reason.”
“What?”
“They already know about Nia.”
Elena said nothing.
“They know she's alive. They know where she is. They knew she'd leave with you.”
Marcus's voice lowered.
“They aren't looking for proof of who she belongs to.”
He held up the note.
“They're looking for something else.”
Elena's expression changed.
“Yes.”
“What?”
She reached into her bag.
This time, she pulled out a small brass key.
Marcus stared.
“That key.”
“It belonged to Eleanor.”
“You had it?”
“After she died.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't trust anyone.”
“You trusted Celeste.”
“She earned it.”
Marcus thought of the basement.
The hidden room.
The photographs.
The files.
“How did you know about the room?”
Elena looked away.
“Because I built it.”
Marcus stared at her.
“You built the hidden room?”
“With Celeste.”
“Why?”
“To hide the evidence.”
“From my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did she know about it?”
“She discovered it after you married Celeste.”
Marcus's face hardened.
“Then she knew.”
“She knew.”
“Why didn't she destroy it?”
Elena gave him a tired smile.
“Because your mother didn't destroy things.”
“What did she do?”
“She collected them.”
Elena held up the brass key.
“And this opens the last place she collected everything.”
Marcus looked at it.
“Where?”
Elena hesitated.
“Your father's house.”
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“My father died before I was born.”
“Exactly.”
He stared at her.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
Elena pulled a folded map from her bag.
Marcus opened it.
A rural property was marked in red.
He knew the place.
His mother had taken him there once when he was a child.
An old farmhouse outside the city.
She had called it a family property.
Marcus had never been allowed inside the locked upstairs rooms.
“That's still there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Eleanor never sold it.”
Marcus studied the map.
“What is there?”
Elena's eyes met his.
“The truth about Elena's disappearance.”
A loud knock struck the motel door.
Nia jumped.
“Three minutes,” a voice said from outside.
Male.
Calm.
Almost polite.
Marcus stepped in front of Nia.
“Elena, we're not going to that house.”
“We are.”
“No.”
“Marcus, listen.”
“I've spent tonight discovering that my mother forged documents, that my wife lied to me, that you were alive, and that my daughter has been watched for years.”
He pointed toward the door.
“I am done following other people's instructions.”
Elena didn't argue.
Instead she said:
“Then don't.”
Marcus paused.
“What?”
“You decide.”
She placed the key in his palm.
“You've spent nine years believing everyone else knew more than you.”
Her voice softened.
“They did.”
Marcus looked down at the key.
“But now you know.”
Another knock.
Harder.
“Two minutes.”
Marcus looked at Nia.
She was crying silently.
He crouched.
“Do you want to go with your mom?”
Nia hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Do you want to stay with me?”
She nodded again.
Marcus's throat tightened.
“You don't have to choose.”
Nia looked at both of them.
“Then don't make me.”
Elena closed her eyes.
Marcus stood.
“We leave together.”
Elena nodded.
They moved quickly.
Marcus opened the bathroom door.
The adjoining room was dark.
Elena handed Nia to him.
“Stay behind me.”
They crossed the connecting room.
The door opened into another exterior corridor.
Rain hammered the pavement.
Marcus looked back.
Their motel room door remained closed.
“Where's Celeste?” he asked.
Elena stopped.
“I don't know.”
Marcus's phone buzzed.
A message.
Don't trust Daniel.
He looked at Elena.
“Who sent this?”
She shook her head.
Another message arrived.
A photograph.
Daniel stood beside a car.
Behind him was the same farmhouse marked on Elena's map.
Marcus's face went cold.
“This is current.”
Elena took the phone.
“He's already there.”
“Why?”
She looked at the photograph.
“Because he has the key.”
Marcus looked at her hand.
She still held the brass key she'd given him.
“How?”
Elena's eyes widened.
“Then there are two keys.”
They stared at one another.
A car engine roared outside.
Marcus grabbed Nia.
“Run.”
They rushed across the parking lot.
A black sedan turned sharply into the motel entrance.
Headlights swept over them.
Elena shouted.
“Left!”
Marcus pulled Nia behind a concrete wall.
The sedan stopped.
Two men stepped out.
One wore a dark raincoat.
The other held an umbrella.
The man with the umbrella looked around the parking lot.
Then he smiled.
Marcus recognized him.
He'd seen that face before.
Not recently.
In an old family photograph.
Standing beside Eleanor.
His mother's attorney.
Dead, according to the obituary Marcus had found years ago.
Marcus whispered:
“That's impossible.”
Elena looked at him.
“You know him?”
“My mother told me he died.”
Elena's face went pale.
“He didn't.”
The man removed his hat.
Rain ran down the side of his face.
He looked directly toward the wall where Marcus was hiding.
Then he said:
“Marcus?”
Nia buried her face against her father's chest.
Marcus didn't answer.
The man smiled again.
“You've grown into your mother's son.”
Elena grabbed Marcus's arm.
“Don't respond.”
The man continued.
“Your mother wanted you to hear this from someone who knew her.”
He held up a sealed envelope.
“She left you one final letter.”
Marcus stared at it.
“What does it say?”
“That's something you must discover yourself.”
The man glanced toward Elena.
“And she wanted Elena alive.”
Elena stepped forward.
“Why?”
“Because Eleanor made a mistake.”
Marcus felt a chill.
“What mistake?”
The man looked at Nia.
Then back at Marcus.
“She thought the child was the leverage.”
He lowered the envelope.
“She was wrong.”
“What was?”
“The leverage.”
Marcus held Nia tighter.
The man smiled.
“Your daughter isn't the leverage, Marcus.”
His eyes shifted to Elena.
“You are.”
A gunshot cracked through the rain.
The man with the umbrella dropped.
Elena screamed.
Marcus pulled Nia down.
Another shot struck the motel sign.
People began shouting.
Cars screeched away from the building.
Marcus looked across the parking lot.
Daniel stood beside a dark SUV, holding a handgun.
“Get in!” he shouted.
Marcus didn't hesitate.
He grabbed Nia's hand and ran.
Elena followed.
They piled into the SUV.
Daniel slammed the door and accelerated.
Marcus looked behind them.
The fallen man was gone.
So was the second man.
“Where are we going?” Marcus demanded.
Daniel kept his eyes on the road.
“To the farmhouse.”
Marcus stared at him.
“You said not to trust you.”
Daniel gave a grim smile.
“I know.”
“Then why should I?”
“Because I already went inside.”
He reached into his coat.
Pulled out a key.
And placed it on the dashboard.
Marcus stared at it.
It looked exactly like Elena's.
Daniel's voice was barely audible.
“I found what Eleanor hid.”
Elena leaned forward.
“What?”
Daniel looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Proof that she didn't just arrange Elena's disappearance.”
He swallowed.
“She arranged Marcus's too.”
Marcus felt the air leave his lungs.
“When?”
Daniel's eyes met his.
“Tomorrow morning.”
The SUV sped toward the dark countryside.
May you like
And for the first time, Marcus understood the date circled on Nia's calendar wasn't the day he'd simply come home.
It was the day someone had planned for him not to come home at all.