Chapter 2 - The Girl They Buried Had Been Living Under Another Name for Twenty YearsAvery did not sleep.
The guest room Adrian had given her was larger than her entire apartment.
She hated it.
It had a balcony overlooking the water.
A fireplace.
A private bathroom.
Fresh flowers.
All of it felt like another trap.
She kept the door open.
No lock.
No matter what Adrian said.
At three in the morning, she finally called her mother's old number.
It was disconnected.
She called anyway.
Voicemail.
Her own recorded voice said her name.
“Avery Monroe.”
The sound hurt.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
Camilla Vale.
The name repeated in her mind.
She didn't want it.
She didn't know it.
Yet every time she closed her eyes, she saw the photograph.
The girl had the same green eyes.
The same small scar near the eyebrow.
The same habit of tilting her head when confused.
Avery touched her face.
Could an identity be buried so deeply that the body remembered before the mind did?
At sunrise, Adrian found her on the balcony.
“You're awake.”
“Yes.”
He placed a cup of coffee beside her.
She looked at it.
“How do you know how I take it?”
“You drink it black.”
“That isn't difficult.”
“I noticed.”
She looked at him.
“Did you know me before last night?”
He answered honestly.
“No.”
“Did you know what I looked like?”
“No.”
“Then how did you recognize the scar?”
He was silent.
“Adrian.”
“I saw it once.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
Avery's breath caught.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The fire.”
She stared.
“I was nine.”
“I was twenty-one.”
“What happened?”
He looked toward the water.
“My brother called me that night.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to come to the house.”
“Why?”
“He said he had discovered something.”
“What?”
“My father was planning to kill his own grandson.”
Avery's mouth went dry.
“Why?”
“Because the baby was supposed to inherit something.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
She watched him.
“You're still hiding something.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“My father was a powerful man.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“He controlled the Vale organization.”
Avery understood.
The rumors.
The criminal empire.
The reason politicians attended Adrian's charity galas.
The reason judges answered his calls.
The reason men watched him when they thought he wasn't looking.
Adrian had inherited his father's world.
But perhaps he had inherited only the legitimate portion.
Perhaps.
“My mother hated your family.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because she asked my brother to help her escape.”
Avery's heart pounded.
“My mother was involved?”
“No.”
“Then why would she know your brother?”
“Because she worked for our family.”
Avery froze.
“What?”
“Your mother was my father's personal assistant.”
Her mother had never mentioned it.
“She was there the night of the fire.”
Adrian continued.
“She saw what happened.”
“What did she see?”
“My father ordering the house burned.”
Avery stared.
“Then why didn't she tell anyone?”
“Because he threatened her.”
“With what?”
Adrian's voice softened.
“You.”
Avery stopped breathing.
“If she talked, he would kill you.”
Her hands began shaking.
“So she changed my name.”
“Yes.”
“From Camilla?”
“Yes.”
“To Avery?”
“Yes.”
“Why Monroe?”
“My mother used that name for your protection.”
Avery turned away.
She needed air.
A few hours later, Adrian brought Dr. Elena Voss to the estate.
She was an elderly surgeon.
She had retired twenty years earlier.
But she remembered the night of the fire.
“I operated on you,” Elena told Avery.
Avery stared.
“Why isn't there a record?”
“Because your record was destroyed.”
“By Dr. Crane?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Elena looked at Adrian.
“Your father.”
Avery swallowed.
“What happened?”
Elena explained.
Camilla had a severe fracture in her thigh.
A plate was necessary.
Her identity was erased.
The surgery was performed under another patient's name.
Then Rebecca Monroe took her out of the hospital.
Avery's mother had stayed hidden for years.
Elena had been sworn to secrecy.
“Why did you never tell me?”
“You were a child.”
“Then why now?”
“Because Rebecca asked me to reveal the truth if she died.”
Avery closed her eyes.
Her mother's final message suddenly made sense.
One saved you.
One cut you open.
One still believes you died.
Adrian looked at her.
“Your mother saved you.”
“Who was the one who cut me open?”
“Dr. Crane.”
“Then who still believes I died?”
Adrian didn't answer.
The answer was obvious.
His father.
But his father was dead.
Unless—
Avery looked at him.
“Is your father really dead?”
Adrian's face went still.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“My own eyes saw the coffin.”
Sofia entered.
“Adrian.”
He turned.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Crane escaped.”
Adrian's face darkened.
“How?”
“Someone cut the power.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
He looked at Avery.
She went cold.
“You think he came here for me.”
“He didn't.”
“Then who?”
Sofia answered.
“The person who opened the gate for him.”
Adrian's phone rang.
He answered.
A voice spoke.
“Hello, nephew.”
Adrian froze.
Avery saw his expression change.
“Who is it?”
He didn't answer.
The voice on the phone laughed softly.
“You finally found her.”
Adrian whispered:
“Matthew?”
Avery stared.
“Your brother is alive?”
Adrian's voice became cold.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
A pause.
“Yet.”
The call ended.
Sofia looked at him.
“Was that him?”
Adrian nodded.
Avery felt dizzy.
The dead were becoming alive.
The lost were returning.
And the people she trusted most seemed to have secrets beneath every sentence.
Then another message appeared on Adrian's phone.
A photograph.
Avery as a little girl.
Standing beside a man.
Matthew Vale.
Behind them stood Elena Monroe.
And behind Elena stood a much younger Adrian.
May you like
Written beneath the image:
She was never supposed to remember you.
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