Chapter 3: The Son Who Was Never Supposed to Speak
We escaped through the back staircase.
Caleb's security man, whose name was Marcus, led us into an alley behind the building.
Rain struck the pavement in silver sheets.
A black SUV waited near the curb.
“Get in!”” Marcus shouted.
Caleb opened the rear door and gestured for me to enter first.
I climbed inside, clutching the folder against my chest.
Marcus slid into the driver's seat.
Three seconds later, headlights appeared at the end of the alley.
A black sedan accelerated toward us.
“Hold on!”” Marcus yelled.
The SUV lurched forward.
A gunshot cracked behind us.
I ducked.
Caleb reached across the seat and pulled me down beside him.
His hands moved quickly.
*“Are you hurt?””*
I shook my head.
*“No. Are you?””*
He showed me his left arm.
A thin line of blood ran beneath his sleeve.
My stomach tightened.
“You're bleeding.””
He looked at the wound, then back at me.
*“It's nothing.””*
I grabbed a clean napkin from the side compartment and pressed it against his arm.
*“That's what my brother used to say whenever he got hurt.””*
Caleb watched my hands.
*“What happened to him?””*
I looked down.
For a moment, the rain and the sound of the engine disappeared.
“Ethan was seventeen. He wanted to study computer engineering. He loved fixing things.
Radios, laptops, broken phones. Anything with wires.””
I swallowed.
“He used to tell me that machines were easier than people because at least machines showed you when something was wrong.””
Caleb's eyes lowered.
I continued.
“The night he died, he sent me a message saying he'd be home in twenty minutes. He never arrived.””
Caleb slowly raised his hands.
*“I'm sorry.””*
I nodded.
“Were you there when it happened?””
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone.
He opened a video.
The screen showed a warehouse corridor.
A young man entered the frame.
Ethan.
My breath caught.
He looked exactly as I remembered him.
Same hoodie.
Same nervous habit of rubbing his thumb against his palm.
Then another man entered.
Caleb.
Younger, perhaps twenty-one, wearing a baseball cap.
The two exchanged something.
A flash drive.
Then Ethan signed something.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
Caleb translated with his hands.
*“If anything happens to me, tell Hannah the truth.””*
The video stopped.
I stared at the screen.
“Why didn't you tell me sooner?””
Caleb looked away.
His fingers moved slowly.
*“I tried.””*
“What?””
*“After Ethan died, I came to your apartment.””*
I shook my head.
“When?””
*“Three days after the funeral.””*
I remembered that week.
I had been barely functioning. My mother had been sedated after collapsing at the funeral. I hadn't opened the curtains or answered the door.
Caleb continued.
*“Your father opened the door.””*
I frowned.
“My father?””
Caleb nodded.
*“He told me you didn't want to see anyone. Then he threatened to call the police if I came back.””*
My heart began pounding.
“My father died four years ago.””
Caleb stared at me.
*“I know.””*
The SUV slowed.
Marcus looked at us through the rearview mirror.
“Caleb, we have a problem.””
Caleb turned.
Marcus pointed toward the dashboard.
A tracking signal flashed on a small screen.
“They've got the vehicle.””
Caleb immediately signed.
*“Where are we?””*
“Two blocks from the old printing factory.””
Caleb shook his head.
*“Don't go to the safe house.””*
Marcus frowned.
“Why?””
Caleb typed something on his phone and showed it to him.
Someone inside is feeding information to Dominic.
Marcus's face changed.
“Who?””
Caleb looked at him.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Caleb typed another message.
I don't know yet.
Marcus turned sharply down a side street.
We stopped outside an abandoned laundromat.
He unlocked a narrow service entrance and led us downstairs into a basement.
The room contained a sofa, a refrigerator, a medical kit, and several monitors.
Caleb sat down.
I placed the folder on the table.
“Your father wants to kill you.””
Caleb nodded.
“Why?””
His hands moved.
*“Because I stopped being useful.””*
I frowned.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a thick envelope.
Inside were documents showing that Dominic had transferred several properties and businesses into Caleb's name.
But every document contained the same unusual clause.
If Caleb died without an heir, control of the entire estate would automatically return to Dominic.
I looked up.
“Your father wants you dead so he can take everything back?””
Caleb shook his head.
Then he opened a laptop.
A series of encrypted files appeared.
He typed a password.
The screen changed.
There were recordings.
Dozens of them.
Audio files, security footage, scanned contracts, and signed statements.
Caleb pointed to one folder.
*MARGARET.*
I clicked it.
The first recording began with a woman's voice.
I recognized it immediately from the old photographs.
Margaret Vale.
“If Dominic discovers what Caleb has been doing, he'll destroy him. He has already destroyed one child who tried to tell the truth.””
My hands went cold.
The recording continued.
“Ethan Mercer trusted my son. He gave Caleb the original files because he knew Dominic would never suspect someone in his own family.””
A pause.
Then a second voice spoke.
Dominic.
“Where is the drive?””
Margaret answered.
“Somewhere you will never find it.””
A loud crash followed.
Then silence.
I turned toward Caleb.
“Where is the original drive?””
He slowly raised his hands.
*“Ethan gave it to you.””*
I shook my head.
“No. He never gave me anything.””
Caleb looked directly into my eyes.
*“Think carefully.””*
I closed my eyes.
My apartment.
Ethan's bedroom.
The boxes I'd kept after his funeral.
His old laptop.
His collection of broken radios.
Then I remembered something.
Six years ago, while cleaning his room, I'd found a small silver flash drive inside the battery compartment of his favorite portable radio.
I'd thought it was broken.
I'd placed the radio in a cardboard box.
And I'd stored it in my father's old garage.
I stood abruptly.
“It's still there.””
Caleb rose.
His face changed.
For the first time, he looked genuinely frightened.
He signed urgently.
*“We need to get it before my father does.””*
Marcus checked his phone.
“Too late.””
He turned the screen toward us.
A photograph showed my apartment building.
Two black SUVs were parked outside.
And standing beside the entrance was Dominic Vale.
Under the photograph was a message from an unknown number.
Bring the girl to me. Alive.
Then another message appeared.
If she has the drive, kill the son first.
Caleb stared at the screen.
His hands slowly lowered.
I reached for his wrist.
*“I'm not leaving you.””*
He looked at me.
I signed again.
*“Ethan trusted you. I'm going to find out why.””*
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he took my hand and pressed something into my palm.
A small silver key.
I looked down.
It had a number engraved on it.
*417.*
Caleb signed one sentence.
*“Your brother didn't leave the evidence in your father's garage.””*
He pointed toward the basement wall.
Then he typed a location into his phone.
*Chicago Police Department. Evidence Locker 417.*
I stared at him.
“Why would the police have it?””
Caleb's expression turned grim.
He opened another file.
A scanned photograph appeared on the laptop.
It showed Ethan standing beside a police officer.
The officer was holding the silver flash drive.
Beneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
Property recovered from the victim's vehicle. Evidence transferred under the authorization of Detective Robert Mercer.
My father's name.
I couldn't breathe.
My father hadn't simply known about Ethan's death.
He had signed away the evidence.
And according to the date on the document, he had done it before the police officially identified Ethan's body.
Caleb reached for my hand again.
His fingers moved carefully.
*“Hannah, there's something else you need to know.””*
I stared at him.
He opened the final document.
It was a photograph of a birth certificate.
A name appeared beneath the heading marked Mother.
Margaret Vale.
And beneath Father was a name that made the entire room disappear.
*Robert Mercer.*
My father.
Caleb watched me as I read it again.
Then he signed the words that shattered everything I thought I knew.
*“Hannah, your father and my mother had a child together before either of us was born.””*
He paused.
*“Ethan and I weren't just friends.””*
May you like
His eyes met mine.
*“We were brothers.””*
