Chapter 7: The Brother Who Betrayed His Sister
The message on my phone seemed to burn through my fingers.
Don't trust James. He knows what happened the night your mother disappeared.
I looked at the man standing beside the black Mercedes.
For eleven months, I had called him Mr. Williams.
I had served his coffee, cleaned his office, and quietly stepped aside whenever he entered a room.
Now he was telling me he had been the last person to see my mother.
And he hadn't told me.
"Emily," James said quietly, "get in the car.""
I didn't move.
"Who sent that message?""
"I don't know.""
"That's convenient.""
He glanced toward the mansion.
"Richard has people watching this house. We need to leave.""
I held up my phone.
"You said you wanted to find your sister. But you were the last person who saw her. What happened?""
James looked down.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he opened the passenger door.
"Get in. I'll tell you everything.""
I shook my head.
"Start talking now.""
Margaret sat in her wheelchair near the entrance, watching us through the open doorway. Her hands trembled in her lap.
James looked at her.
Then he finally spoke.
"Fourteen years ago, I visited Rebecca at St. Catherine's. She was conscious. She knew something was wrong, and she was terrified.""
"What did she tell you?""
"She told me Father was planning to move her somewhere nobody could find her.""
"Did you believe her?""
"I wanted to.""
"That's not what I asked.""
James swallowed.
"Yes.""
My chest tightened.
"Then what did you do?""
He looked toward the street.
"I told her I would help.""
I stared at him.
"And?""
"And I went to Father.""
I felt sick.
"You told him?""
James nodded.
"Rebecca had asked me to bring her a phone. She wanted to call Margaret and tell her where she was being taken. I promised I would.""
"Did you bring it?""
"No.""
"Why?""
"Father found out.""
I stepped backward.
James continued.
"He told me Rebecca had become unstable. He said she was planning to accuse the family of crimes that could destroy everything. He told me if I helped her, Margaret would be placed in a nursing facility and I would lose access to the family trust.""
"So you chose your inheritance.""
"I was twelve years old.""
"And she was your sister!""
My voice echoed across the driveway.
James closed his eyes.
"I know.""
"No, you don't. You have no idea what it feels like to need someone and have them choose money over you.""
He looked at me.
"You're right.""
I hadn't expected that answer.
He continued.
"That night, I went back to the hospital. Rebecca was waiting. She had packed a small bag. She thought I was taking her home.""
My throat tightened.
"What happened?""
James looked toward the mansion.
"Father was already there. Two men came into the room. They said Rebecca needed emergency treatment. She started screaming that they were lying.""
He rubbed his face.
"I tried to stop them.""
"Did you?""
"No.""
The silence between us was unbearable.
"She looked at me before they wheeled her away," he continued.
"She asked why I had betrayed her.""
I felt tears gathering.
"What did you say?""
"Nothing.""
"James...""
"She kept looking at me. Even after the doors closed.""
He wiped his eyes.
"I was twelve. I told myself Father knew what he was doing. I told myself Rebecca would come back.""
I stared at him.
"And you spent fourteen years believing that?""
"Until I found the first medical records.""
"When?""
"Three years ago.""
I froze.
"Three years?""
James nodded.
"You knew she might still be alive for three years?""
"I found a transfer reference. I didn't know where she had gone. Every time I got close, Father moved the records or threatened the people involved.""
I wanted to hit him.
Instead, I looked at Margaret.
She was watching us.
I walked back toward her.
She lifted both hands.
What happened?
I knelt.
"James told me.""
Her expression tightened.
She signed:
He betrayed her.
I nodded.
Margaret closed her eyes.
Then she reached for my wrist and gently touched the falcon tattoo.
Her fingers moved again.
But he can still help you find her.
I looked at James.
He stood beside the car, waiting.
I didn't forgive him.
I wasn't even sure I could ever forgive him.
But if there was a chance my mother was alive, I wasn't going to let my anger become another reason I lost her.
I helped Margaret into the car.
Then I sat beside her.
"Take us to Willow Creek," I told James.
The drive took nearly two hours.
The city lights disappeared behind us, replaced by dark stretches of highway and occasional gas stations.
Margaret sat quietly in the back seat.
I kept checking my phone.
The unknown number had sent no more messages.
Finally, I turned toward James.
"Why did your father say Rebecca was dead?""
"Because he needed a reason to stop people searching.""
"And the funeral?""
"A closed casket.""
"Did you attend?""
He nodded.
"Yes.""
"Who was inside?""
James gripped the steering wheel.
"I never saw the body.""
I stared at him.
"You attended your sister's funeral without seeing her?""
"Father said the injuries were too severe.""
I turned toward the window.
Every answer created another question.
At 10:17 p.m., James turned onto a narrow road surrounded by tall trees.
A rusted sign appeared in the headlights.
WILLOW CREEK RESIDENTIAL CENTER.
The building behind it was enormous.
It had once been a hospital, perhaps even a beautiful one. Its white exterior was now gray with age. Several windows were boarded up, and weeds covered the entrance.
But there were lights inside.
I leaned forward.
"Someone is there.""
James slowed down.
A black SUV was parked near the entrance.
Margaret began moving her hands.
Not safe.
James nodded.
"I know.""
We parked behind an abandoned maintenance building.
He turned off the engine.
"Stay here.""
I grabbed his sleeve.
"No.""
"Emily, there could be security inside.""
"Then we go together.""
Margaret touched my shoulder.
She signed:
Take this.
She removed a small gold pendant from beneath her necklace.
It was a falcon.
The same symbol as mine.
I stared at it.
"Why do you have this?""
Margaret pointed toward the building.
Then she signed:
Rebecca gave me the other half.
I examined the pendant.
It had a tiny opening.
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
I carefully unfolded it.
There were six numbers.
And beneath them, one sentence.
If Emily comes, let her hear my voice.
My heart stopped.
"She left this for me?""
Margaret nodded.
I held the pendant tightly.
Then James opened the car door.
We approached the building from the side.
A security camera rotated above the entrance.
James used an old access card.
The electronic lock flashed red.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Then I remembered the numbers in the pendant.
I entered them.
The lock clicked.
James stared at me.
"How did you know?""
I held up the pendant.
"She wanted me to come.""
We entered.
The hallway smelled of dust and antiseptic.
A reception desk stood beneath a faded sign.
Beyond it were several doors.
A faint mechanical hum came from somewhere below.
We followed it.
At the end of the hallway was a small office.
A computer monitor was still on.
James approached it.
"There's a patient database.""
He typed several combinations.
Then he stopped.
"Emily.""
I moved beside him.
A single patient file was open.
*PATIENT: REBECCA JOHNSON*
*STATUS: ACTIVE*
*ROOM: 317*
I couldn't breathe.
My mother was alive.
Or she had been when that record was last updated.
I gripped the desk.
"Take me to her.""
James stared at the date.
"Last updated yesterday.""
My eyes filled with tears.
Yesterday.
She could be here.
She could be waiting.
I turned toward the hallway.
Then a voice came through a small speaker above the door.
"Emily Johnson.""
I froze.
A woman's voice.
Weak.
Older.
But familiar in a way I couldn't explain.
"Emily, if that's really you, please don't come upstairs.""
I looked at James.
The speaker crackled.
"Your grandfather is coming.""
Then the woman whispered something that made my knees weaken.
"Baby, there's something you need to know about the night you were born.""
May you like
The speaker went silent.
And somewhere above us, a door slammed.
