Chapter 3 - The Secret Inside the Wallet
Nathaniel didn't sleep that night.
Neither did I.
By morning, his entire organization was searching for my mother.
The city had changed.
At least for me.
Before yesterday, adults were simply adults.
Police officers were supposed to protect people.
Banks were supposed to hold money.
Companies were supposed to pay workers.
Now I knew none of those things were guaranteed.
Nathaniel took me to an old library hidden inside his private residence.
The shelves stretched three floors.
He found a ledger.
“Your grandmother was named Evelyn Hart.”
I nodded.
“She worked with my father.”
“What did she do?”
“She was his lawyer.”
“And my mother?”
“Accountant.”
“My father?”
“Investigator.”
I frowned.
“So everyone was investigating everyone.”
Nathaniel smiled faintly.
“That's how families like mine survive.”
“What did they find?”
He opened the ledger.
Millions had been moved through offshore accounts.
The money belonged to Graves Holdings.
But it wasn't going to criminals.
It was going somewhere else.
A private network.
Northbridge.
Nathaniel explained that Northbridge was a hidden organization with connections to organized crime, politics, and private security.
His father, Malcolm Graves, had created it.
Nathaniel had spent years trying to dismantle it.
Julian and Evelyn had helped him.
Then they disappeared.
My mother had hidden me.
And Nathaniel had been searching.
“Why didn't you find us?”
He didn't answer.
“Because someone inside my organization kept moving you.”
“Who?”
“I still don't know.”
Then he looked at me.
“But now I do.”
He showed me a photograph of a man.
It was the same man from my mother's apartment building.
I recognized him.
“He gave me candy.”
Nathaniel went still.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Where?”
Outside school.
He had told me my mother was sick.
I had ignored him because my mother had warned me never to speak to strangers.
Nathaniel's face turned dangerous.
“What did he look like?”
I described him.
His name was Owen Pike.
One of Northbridge's agents.
Nathaniel ordered a search.
They found him two hours later.
But Owen was already dead.
Someone had killed him.
Nathaniel stared at the report.
“He knew where your mother was.”
“What now?”
“We find whoever killed him.”
That afternoon, Nathaniel took me back to the diner near my old apartment.
He wanted me to remember the last place I had seen my mother.
I pointed toward a bakery.
“She bought bread.”
Then a pharmacy.
“She got medicine.”
Then a man standing across the street.
“That man was there.”
Nathaniel turned.
The man disappeared.
We followed.
He entered a parking structure.
Nathaniel's security team surrounded it.
But the man had escaped.
He left behind a note.
Stop looking for Eleanor Hart.
Nathaniel crumpled it.
“Her name is Anna.”
“No.”
He stared at me.
“My mother doesn't lie.”
“She lied about her name to keep you safe.”
I looked down.
“Does that make her bad?”
“No.”
“Then don't be angry.”
He sighed.
“I'm not.”
He took my hand.
“I've been angry for twelve years.”
“About my mother?”
“About losing my brother.”
That night, Nathaniel told me about Julian.
They had been close.
Julian was funny.
Kind.
Always reading.
Nathaniel was reckless.
Julian kept him grounded.
Then they discovered their father was involved in Northbridge.
They planned to expose him.
Malcolm found out.
Julian disappeared.
Nathaniel was framed for the disappearance.
For years, he had been trying to clear his name.
But the more he investigated, the more people around him died.
“Did you kill them?”
I asked.
Nathaniel looked at me.
“No.”
I believed him.
Because his face didn't look like someone trying to convince me.
It looked like someone tired of being misunderstood.
Then the fire alarm sounded.
Smoke filled the hallway.
Nathaniel grabbed me.
“Stay behind me.”
We ran.
The library was burning.
Someone had set it on fire.
Nathaniel returned to the shelves.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for the ledger.”
“The ledger?”
“Your grandmother's.”
He found it.
Half-burned.
Inside was one surviving page.
At the bottom was a name.
VIVIAN GRAVES.
Nathaniel stared.
His sister.
The woman who had entered the office.
The woman who had seen my bracelet.
The woman who had told him to send me away.
His face went cold.
“Why would she do this?”
I whispered,
“Maybe she knows where my mother is.”
We went back to the office.
Vivian was gone.
Her desk had been emptied.
Her phone was disconnected.
Her private accounts were empty.
Nathaniel stood perfectly still.
“She ran.”
“Why?”
“Because she knows I'm close.”
He turned toward me.
“You need to leave the city.”
“No.”
“Ruby.”
“My mother is here.”
“She may be in danger.”
“So am I.”
“Yes.”
“Then I want to help.”
He looked at me.
“You're eight.”
“I returned your wallet.”
He laughed despite himself.
“You did.”
“And you found my mother.”
“Not yet.”
“Then keep trying.”
He stared at me for a long time.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
That evening, Nathaniel received a video.
It showed my mother.
Alive.
Tied to a chair.
She looked frightened.
A man stood behind her.
“You have forty-eight hours, Nathaniel.”
The video ended.
I stared at the screen.
My mother was alive.
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
“They're using her to bring me out.”
“Will you go?”
“Yes.”
“Then I'll go too.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“You're not a bargaining chip.”
“I won't be.”
“How?”
“I know where they'll go.”
He stared.
“How?”
I pointed at the screen.
Behind my mother was a window.
Through it, I could see a lighthouse.
“My mother took me there once.”
Nathaniel zoomed in.
His face changed.
“That isn't a lighthouse.”
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“What is it?”
“A Northbridge warehouse.”
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