Chapter 5: The Mother Who Came Back From the Dead
I couldn't take my eyes off the screen.
Grace Brooks.
My mother.
Alive.
The police officer beside me noticed my expression.
"Do you know this woman?""
I nodded.
"She's my mother.""
He frowned.
"Your mother died eleven years ago.""
"That's what I was told.""
Daniel took the tablet from me.
"The image isn't old. The vehicle entered the garage at 2:37 a.m.""
I grabbed his arm.
"Then find the car.""
"We're trying.""
"Try harder!""
The officer stepped between us.
"Mr. Brooks, I understand this is difficult, but you need to calm down.""
I looked at him.
"My mother spent twenty-six years raising me, and someone told me she was dead. Now she's suddenly driving away with the woman who tried to kill Eleanor Callaway.""
My voice broke.
"How exactly am I supposed to calm down?""
The officer said nothing.
Daniel took me into a private security office.
He locked the door and placed a paper folder on the desk.
"I found something else.""
"What?""
"Your mother's employee record.""
He opened the folder.
There was an old photograph of Grace wearing a hotel uniform.
Underneath it was a personnel number.
"She worked here?""
Daniel nodded.
"Twenty-seven years ago. Before you were born.""
I stared at the photograph.
"Why didn't she ever tell me?""
"Maybe she didn't want you connected to this place.""
He turned another page.
"Look at the termination date.""
I leaned closer.
The date was November 19.
The same date written on the letter we'd found in Arthur's study.
But the reason for termination made my stomach turn.
Employee removed from active payroll following fatal incident.
I looked at Daniel.
"Fatal incident?""
He nodded slowly.
"According to the hotel records, Grace died in a service elevator accident.""
"That's impossible.""
"I know.""
"She was alive when she raised me.""
Daniel turned another page.
There was a handwritten note attached to the file.
Body identification completed by Richard Callaway.
I read it twice.
"Richard identified a body as my mother?""
"Apparently.""
I felt sick.
"Then whose body was it?""
Daniel didn't answer.
Instead, he pulled up the garage recording again.
This time, he paused the image at the moment Grace turned toward the camera.
I looked carefully.
There was something strange about her face.
A thin scar ran from her left temple toward her eyebrow.
My mother had never had that scar.
I remembered every detail of her face. The tiny mole beneath her right eye. The faint crease near her mouth. The small burn mark on her wrist from an accident in our kitchen.
This woman had none of those features.
I stepped away.
"That's not Grace.""
Daniel looked surprised.
"What?""
"She's wearing my mother's bracelet. But that's not my mother.""
I pointed at the screen.
"Someone wants us to think she's Grace.""
Daniel immediately called the police.
But before he could finish, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
If you want to see the real Grace, come to the old Callaway residence. Come alone.
A second message followed.
Bring the photograph.
I showed Daniel.
He shook his head.
"Absolutely not.""
"They know where my mother is.""
"Or they're trying to lure you into a trap.""
"Either way, I'm going.""
Daniel looked at me for several seconds.
Then he picked up his jacket.
"You're not going alone.""
The old Callaway residence stood outside the city, behind a stone gate and a long driveway lined with oak trees.
It had once been the family's main estate.
Now the mansion looked abandoned.
Most of the windows were dark. Ivy covered the stone walls. A fountain in the courtyard had cracked, leaving a shallow pool of rainwater.
We arrived shortly before sunrise.
Daniel parked two streets away.
I carried the photograph inside my jacket.
The front door was unlocked.
That frightened me more than a locked door would have.
"Stay close," Daniel whispered.
We entered.
The entrance hall smelled of damp wood and old perfume.
A chandelier hung overhead, covered in dust.
Then I heard a woman's voice.
"Nathaniel?""
I turned.
A woman stood at the top of the staircase.
She wore a gray sweater and black trousers. Her dark hair was tied behind her neck.
She looked exhausted.
But when she stepped into the light, I recognized her.
The small mole beneath her right eye.
The faint crease near her mouth.
The tiny burn scar on her wrist.
"Mom?""
She began crying.
"Oh, my baby.""
I ran up the stairs.
She caught me in her arms.
For several seconds, I was twenty years old again, standing in the kitchen of our little house while she wrapped a towel around my shoulders after I came home soaked from the rain.
I held her tightly.
"You're alive.""
She pressed her face against my neck.
"I'm sorry.""
"Eleven years. You let me believe you were dead for eleven years.""
"I know.""
"Why?""
She pulled back.
Her hands were trembling.
"Because they told me you would be killed if I ever contacted you.""
I stared at her.
"Who?""
She looked toward the entrance.
"Richard. And Victoria.""
I shook my head.
"Victoria?""
Grace nodded.
"She knew where you were. She knew everything.""
"Why would she threaten her own son?""
Grace closed her eyes.
"Because Victoria isn't the only person who knows you're her biological child.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What does that mean?""
Before she could answer, Daniel appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Someone's coming.""
A car door slammed outside.
Then another.
Grace grabbed my hand.
"We have to leave.""
"Not until you explain.""
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
"I didn't steal you, Nathaniel. I took you because Victoria asked me to.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
"She was eighteen. Richard had arranged for you to disappear. Victoria knew what he planned to do, and she begged me to save you.""
I remembered Richard's words.
Grace wasn't your biological mother.
Grace continued.
"Victoria loved you. She wanted to raise you. But Richard told her that if she kept you, he would destroy her and have you declared dead.""
"Then why didn't she come with us?""
"Because she believed she could stop him from inside the family.""
I thought of Victoria's cold expression on the rooftop.
"She tried to kill Eleanor.""
Grace shook her head.
"She was trying to stop Eleanor from revealing something.""
"What?""
Grace looked toward the staircase.
Footsteps approached.
Daniel raised his flashlight.
A man stepped into view.
Not Richard.
Not Victoria.
A younger man in his early thirties, wearing a dark coat.
He had the same gray eyes as Eleanor.
The same sharp jawline as Richard.
He looked at me and smiled sadly.
"Hello, Nathaniel.""
Grace moved in front of me.
"No.""
The man raised both hands.
"Easy. I'm not here to hurt him.""
I stared at him.
"Who are you?""
He swallowed.
"My name is Alexander Callaway.""
Grace's face went pale.
"You're supposed to be dead.""
Alexander looked at her.
"Apparently, that runs in this family.""
He turned toward me.
"Victoria didn't push Eleanor because she wanted her dead.""
I clenched my fists.
"Then why did she do it?""
"Because Eleanor had discovered the truth about your birth.""
He stepped closer.
"And because she was about to reveal that Richard Callaway isn't your only enemy.""
A loud noise came from downstairs.
Daniel looked over the railing.
"Police!""
Alexander shook his head.
"Not police.""
He reached into his coat and removed a photograph.
It showed Eleanor standing beside a newborn baby.
But there was something written on the back.
A name.
Not Nathaniel.
Not Brooks.
*Arthur Callaway.*
I looked up.
Alexander's expression was grim.
"Your birth certificate was altered. Your biological father was never recorded.""
He paused.
"Because the man who fathered you was the same man who ordered Arthur Callaway's murder.""
Grace grabbed my arm.
"Don't listen to him.""
Alexander turned toward her.
"Tell him, Grace.""
She began shaking her head.
"Please.""
Alexander looked directly into my eyes.
"Your father was Richard Callaway.""
The house went silent.
Then Grace whispered:
"That's not the worst part.""
She reached into her sweater and pulled out an old hospital identification band.
"Richard wasn't the only Callaway involved in what happened that night.""
She placed it in my palm.
The name printed on the band was not mine.
May you like
It belonged to another baby.
A baby born exactly six minutes after me.
