Chapter 6 - The Night My Brother Came HomeDaniel arrived at midnight.
The mansion had never felt so strange.
He walked through the front door as if he had never left.
Older.
Thinner.
Gray threaded through his hair.
A scar ran from his temple to his cheek.
But it was him.
My brother.
The dead man I had mourned.
The man I had hated.
The man I had secretly wished was alive more times than I could admit.
We stared at one another.
Neither of us moved.
Then Nora ran down the stairs.
“Uncle Daniel!”
He dropped to his knees.
She threw her arms around him.
I watched.
A lifetime passed through that embrace.
Sophie and Olivia followed.
Daniel held them all.
When he stood, his eyes met mine.
“Dom.”
I couldn't speak.
He stepped closer.
I punched him.
Once.
Hard.
He staggered.
Grace gasped.
Daniel wiped blood from his lip.
“You deserved that.”
I hit him again.
“You let me bury you.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me destroy myself.”
“I tried to stop you.”
“You disappeared.”
“To keep you alive.”
“I thought you were dead!”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
That broke me.
Not his excuses.
Not his explanations.
The fact that my brother had tears in his eyes.
I turned away.
“Tell me everything.”
We sat in the library.
Daniel told me the truth.
The car wreck had been staged.
He had survived.
He went underground because Bell's network had infiltrated law enforcement.
He had tried to expose Orpheus.
Then Isabelle found him.
Together they built the archive.
Together they recruited Helen.
Together they protected the girls.
Until Mrs. Donnelly discovered them.
“Why didn't Isabelle run?” I asked.
“She tried.”
“Where?”
“Canada.”
I looked at Grace.
She nodded.
“She asked me to arrange transportation.”
“Why didn't she go?”
Daniel's face darkened.
“Because the girls' school records had been changed.”
“What?”
“Someone altered their names and medical files.”
“So?”
“They had already been marked.”
“For what?”
“Leverage.”
I closed my eyes.
My daughters had never been random victims.
They were always the target.
Not because they were innocent.
Because they were mine.
Daniel placed a folder on the table.
“The person who ordered Isabelle's murder is not Bell.”
I looked up.
“Who?”
He opened the folder.
Inside was a photograph.
My father.
Still alive in the photograph.
Beside him stood a man.
I recognized him.
Richard Kane.
One of Bell's partners.
But there was another person.
A younger woman.
My mother.
I stared.
“What does she have to do with this?”
Daniel shook his head.
“She knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Dad was building Orpheus.”
“And?”
“She wanted out.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Why did she stay?”
“Because she was pregnant.”
Silence.
“With me?”
Daniel nodded.
“Dad threatened her.”
“With what?”
“With you.”
I closed my eyes.
My whole childhood rearranged itself.
My mother had never been cold.
She had been afraid.
My father's strictness.
His obsession with control.
His insistence that I become a certain kind of man.
His hatred of weakness.
All of it suddenly made sense.
He had been raising an heir.
Not a son.
A weapon.
Daniel leaned closer.
“He didn't expect Isabelle.”
“What?”
“She changed you.”
I looked toward the photograph of my wife.
“She taught you to love.”
I laughed bitterly.
“She taught me to fear losing people.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He looked at my daughters.
“She taught you that you can lose everything and still choose not to become a monster.”
The next morning, we prepared for the gala.
The plan was simple.
Expose Bell publicly.
Release the archive.
Protect the girls.
Force the network into the open.
But Bell had one more move.
He kidnapped Helen's son.
We found him at a warehouse.
The rescue went badly.
There were twelve men.
We had six.
Gunfire echoed through the building.
Michael freed the boy.
Grace stayed with the children.
Daniel and I moved through the warehouse together.
For the first time since we were teenagers, my brother stood at my side.
We reached the upper office.
Bell wasn't there.
Instead, a monitor showed live footage from the mansion.
The nursery.
Empty.
A voice came through the speaker.
“You're too late.”
I felt ice spread through my veins.
“Bell.”
“Your daughters are not at the gala.”
“Where are they?”
“Where it all began.”
“What does that mean?”
“Garden City.”
The preschool.
The exact place Isabelle had died.
Bell had taken them there.
We raced.
When we arrived, the school was empty.
Three backpacks were arranged on the pavement.
Olivia's.
Sophie's.
Nora's.
Each had a note.
Mine read:
You wanted the truth. Come alone.
Daniel grabbed my shoulder.
“Don't.”
I looked at him.
“Those are my daughters.”
“And that's exactly why he'll win.”
I looked at Grace.
She shook her head.
“You won't be alone.”
We found a way into the building through the rear entrance.
The preschool smelled exactly the same.
Paint.
Soap.
Crayons.
And grief.
At the end of the hallway stood Bell.
Arthur Bell.
Perfect suit.
Silver hair.
Calm smile.
And beside him stood Mrs. Donnelly.
She held a gun.
Behind them were my daughters.
Alive.
Terrified.
My heart nearly stopped.
“Let them go.”
Bell smiled.
“Tomorrow you were going to become king.”
“I don't want your kingdom.”
“Liar.”
“I want my children.”
He nodded.
“That's always been your weakness.”
I looked at Mrs. Donnelly.
“Where is Isabelle?”
She looked away.
Bell answered.
“Dead.”
“I know that.”
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
Bell smiled.
“Your wife never meant to tell you the truth.”
He raised a remote.
The screen behind him lit up.
Footage from fourteen months earlier.
Isabelle leaving the house.
But she wasn't alone.
Someone sat beside her in the car.
Daniel.
I watched them argue.
Then another car appeared.
A black sedan.
It followed them.
The screen froze.
Bell said, “The driver was you.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“It was your car.”
I stared.
The driver's face was hidden.
But the car was mine.
Bell smiled.
“Someone made it look like you ordered your wife's death.”
I understood.
Someone had planned for me to become the suspect in my own wife's murder.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Dominic, Isabelle knew you would come.”
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
“She left you one final message.”
A recording began.
Isabelle appeared on screen.
Her eyes were wet.
But she smiled.
“Dom.”
My entire body went still.
“If you're watching this, it means they failed to keep you apart from Daniel.”
She took a breath.
“And it means our daughters have finally found their voices.”
I looked at the girls.
Nora was crying.
Isabelle continued.
“I need you to forgive your brother.”
Then the screen went black.
Gunfire erupted.
I grabbed Nora.
Daniel grabbed Olivia.
Grace pulled Sophie down.
Bell disappeared through a side door.
Mrs. Donnelly fired once.
Then Daniel tackled her.
When the shooting stopped, Bell was gone.
But the three girls were safe.
And we had one thing we hadn't had before.
Proof.
May you like
A recording.
And tomorrow, the entire city would hear Isabelle's voice.
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