Chapter 3 - The Man My Mother Told Me to Fear
I called back seventeen times.
No answer.
The first thing Adrian did was send two cars to Queens.
The second thing he did was tell me he couldn't promise my mother was safe.
That sentence changed the shape of the night.
“I told you not to leave alone,” he said.
“My mother is alone.”
“She may not be anymore.”
“Then let's go.”
He looked toward the ballroom.
“Not yet.”
I stared at him.
“My mother just said my father is alive.”
“I heard.”
“She told me not to trust you.”
He didn't flinch.
“That makes sense.”
“What?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“If she believes my family is responsible for what happened to her, she has every reason to hate me.”
“You didn't answer the important part.”
“What part?”
“Should I trust you?”
He was silent.
Then he said, “No.”
I almost laughed.
“That's honest.”
“You shouldn't trust anyone in this building.”
“What about you?”
“You can decide later.”
We left through a service corridor.
Two security guards followed.
I didn't know whether to feel protected or imprisoned.
Outside, rain had started.
Adrian held an umbrella over my head.
I moved away from him.
“I can hold my own umbrella.”
“I know.”
He handed it to me.
That small gesture unsettled me more than if he had tried to charm me.
We got into the back of a black sedan.
As we drove through Manhattan, Adrian received three calls.
He ignored all of them.
Finally, he answered the fourth.
“What?”
The person on the other end spoke.
Adrian's face tightened.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Don't contact the police yet.”
He hung up.
“My mother?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Your apartment.”
I stared at him.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke in.”
My throat closed.
“Is Mom there?”
“We don't know.”
I grabbed the door handle.
“Stop the car.”
“No.”
“Stop the car!”
“Mara.”
“I need to go.”
“If your mother wanted you to go home, she would have told you.”
“She told me to leave!”
“She told you to leave the gala.”
He looked at me.
“And she told you not to trust me.”
“That is what she said.”
“Which means she expects someone to come after you.”
The words silenced me.
We reached Queens less than twenty minutes later.
My building looked normal from the street.
That was the worst part.
The same faded brick.
The same broken mailbox.
The same upstairs neighbor's bicycle chained to the railing.
But the apartment door stood open.
Adrian stepped in first.
“Stay behind me.”
I ignored him.
“Mom?”
No answer.
The sewing machine was on the floor.
Fabric covered the kitchen.
One drawer had been ripped from its frame.
I ran into the bedroom.
Empty.
The bed was untouched.
The closet doors were open.
Mom’s blue coat was gone.
Her purse was gone.
Her sewing box was gone.
I turned back.
“She wasn't taken.”
Adrian looked at me.
“What?”
“Look.”
I pointed.
A cup of tea sat on the kitchen table.
Cold.
Half full.
“She left willingly.”
“Or someone made her.”
On the sewing machine lay a folded piece of paper.
My name was written on it.
Mara.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Only six words were written inside.
THE FIFTH STAR WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO EXIST.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian took the paper.
He went still.
“What?”
He turned it over.
Nothing.
“Adrian.”
He looked at me.
“You need to see someone.”
“Who?”
“An old man named Samuel Price.”
The name hit me.
“Eleanor Price?”
“My grandfather's former attorney.”
“Why would he know my mother?”
“Because he helped hide her.”
I stared at him.
“From whom?”
“My grandfather.”
There it was.
The first crack in the Winter family story.
Adrian drove us downtown.
Samuel Price lived above a bookstore in Greenwich Village.
He was eighty-two.
He wore suspenders and had a white beard.
When he saw me, he didn't look surprised.
He looked tired.
“You finally came.”
I stopped.
“What?”
He looked at Adrian.
“I told Julian this would happen.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“You knew?”
“I knew the day she was born.”
I felt dizzy.
“Why?”
Samuel looked at me for several seconds.
“Because your mother made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“Never to tell you who your father was unless Winter House found you first.”
My heart pounded.
“They found me.”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“Then the promise is broken.”
He walked to a cabinet.
He removed a small metal box.
Inside was a cassette tape.
A photograph.
And a letter.
He handed me the photograph first.
It showed my mother, Julian Winter, and another man.
The other man was younger.
Dark hair.
Same gray eyes as Adrian.
I looked at Adrian.
“That's my father.”
Samuel nodded.
Adrian looked genuinely stunned.
“That's Daniel Winter.”
He whispered the name.
“My father's uncle.”
I stared at him.
“Then why did my mother tell me he was dead?”
Samuel answered.
“Because Daniel disappeared after trying to expose Julian.”
Adrian sat down.
“My family told me he died.”
“They told everyone.”
Samuel placed the cassette on the table.
“Daniel recorded that before he vanished.”
“Why hasn't anyone heard it?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
Samuel looked at Adrian.
“Julian's reach.”
Then he looked at me.
“And his successor's.”
My eyes shifted to Adrian.
“You think he's dangerous?”
Samuel didn't answer.
Adrian stood.
“I didn't know.”
Samuel smiled sadly.
“That's the problem with families built on secrets. The children inherit the consequences before they inherit the truth.”
We played the cassette.
Static.
Then a man's voice.
Low.
Tired.
My hands began to shake.
“Marlene, if you're hearing this, I've failed.”
My mother's name.
Daniel continued.
“Julian knows about the Blue Star. He knows it belongs to you. He will claim it, bury it, and if necessary destroy anyone who can prove the truth.”
A pause.
Then another voice appeared in the background.
Julian.
“You really thought you could steal from me?”
Daniel said:
“You stole from Marlene first.”
The tape crackled.
Then Julian laughed.
“You're still protecting her.”
Daniel answered.
“I'm protecting my daughter.”
I stopped breathing.
My daughter.
I looked at Samuel.
He nodded.
The recording continued.
“Marlene, take Mara and disappear. The fifth star is the proof. I told you that when the time came, the world would need to see the original.”
The tape ended.
No one spoke.
Adrian finally whispered,
“Mara is my cousin.”
I looked at him.
He looked horrified.
Not disgusted.
Not frightened of me.
Horrified by what his family had done.
“My entire life,” he said, “I've been told Daniel betrayed my grandfather.”
Samuel shook his head.
“Daniel tried to stop him.”
I stood.
“Then why did Mom bring me here tonight?”
Samuel frowned.
“What?”
“She chose the dress.”
“The Blue Star?”
“Yes.”
He studied the five symbols.
“The fifth star.”
“What is so important about the fifth star?”
Samuel walked closer.
“Four stars were used in the public collection.”
He touched the fifth.
“This one concealed a code.”
“What code?”
“A name.”
I stared.
“Whose?”
Samuel's voice became nearly a whisper.
“The name of the person who funded Julian's original empire.”
“Who?”
He looked at Adrian.
“His answer is in the Winter House archives.”
Adrian stood.
“I'll get it.”
Samuel stopped him.
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the archives have been searched already.”
“By whom?”
Samuel’s eyes shifted toward me.
“Someone who knew Mara would wear the dress tonight.”
The door downstairs slammed.
Everyone froze.
Footsteps climbed the stairs.
Slow.
Heavy.
Adrian moved in front of me.
Samuel reached for an old revolver.
Then a voice called from the stairwell.
“Mara?”
I recognized it.
My mother's voice.
I ran toward the door.
Adrian grabbed me.
“Wait.”
“Mara!” my mother cried again.
“Mom!”
The door opened.
Marlene stood there.
Wet from the rain.
Breathing hard.
And holding a leather suitcase.
She looked at me.
Then Adrian.
Then the dress.
Her face crumpled.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
I ran into her arms.
For a few seconds, I was six years old again.
Then I pulled back.
“You lied to me.”
She closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“Dad is alive?”
“He was.”
“Where is he?”
Her lips trembled.
“I don't know.”
“You said he was dead.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You let me believe my father abandoned us.”
“No.”
She looked directly at me.
“He didn't abandon us.”
Her voice broke.
“Your family came for him.”
Adrian went pale.
“My family?”
Marlene turned toward him.
“Your grandfather murdered the truth.”
She opened the leather suitcase.
Inside were dozens of sketches.
Documents.
Photographs.
And one envelope with a name written across it.
ADRIAN WINTER.
He stared.
“What is that?”
Marlene handed it to him.
“Your grandfather left instructions before he died.”
Adrian looked at the envelope.
“He's dead.”
“He is.”
“Then why would he leave this for me?”
Marlene's eyes filled with tears.
“Because he knew one day you would have to choose between being his grandson…”
May you like
She looked at me.
“And being the man your cousin deserved.”
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