Chapter 16 - THE MEMORY THEY STOLE
Eleanor spent the night staring at the old photograph.
She couldn't stop looking at the little girl beside her.
The girl looked like her.
But the photograph was impossible.
She had no memory of the boy.
No memory of the house.
No memory of the accident.
No memory of Margaret being her mother.
Yet somewhere inside her mind, something was beginning to move.
A sound.
A smell.
A voice.
A hallway.
She closed her eyes.
And suddenly she remembered.
A red door.
A child's hand.
Someone screaming.
Then darkness.
Eleanor opened her eyes.
She was breathing heavily.
Daniel sat beside her.
“What happened?”
“I remembered something.”
“What?”
“A red door.”
Daniel looked confused.
Margaret stood across the room.
Her face had gone pale.
“You shouldn't have remembered that.”
Eleanor turned.
“What was behind the door?”
Margaret said nothing.
“Tell me.”
Robert answered.
“Your father's office.”
Eleanor froze.
“Why was I there?”
“Because you saw something.”
“What?”
Robert looked toward Margaret.
“Her.”
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
Eleanor stared at her.
“You?”
Margaret nodded.
“You were five.”
“What did I see?”
Margaret whispered,
“Me killing a man.”
Eleanor felt the room disappear.
“No.”
“You saw me holding the gun.”
“Who did you kill?”
Margaret looked down.
“Your father.”
Silence.
Eleanor couldn't breathe.
“You killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was going to kill you.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Why would he kill his own daughter?”
Margaret's voice broke.
“Because he discovered you weren't his.”
Eleanor stared.
“Robert.”
Margaret nodded.
“You were Robert's daughter.”
Eleanor looked at Robert.
He couldn't meet her eyes.
“My father knew?”
“Yes.”
“And he wanted me dead?”
“He wanted the Whitmore fortune protected.”
Eleanor laughed bitterly.
“All of this because of money.”
“No.”
Margaret shook her head.
“It was never just money.”
“Then what?”
“Power.”
Eleanor looked at Lily and Emily.
“And my daughters?”
Margaret stepped closer.
“They inherited something from you.”
“What?”
“The genetic marker.”
Eleanor stared.
“So Charles wanted them.”
“Yes.”
“And Robert?”
“He wanted the same thing.”
Eleanor looked at Robert.
“What did you want?”
Robert's voice became quiet.
“Revenge.”
“For what?”
“For losing you.”
Eleanor froze.
“What do you mean?”
Robert swallowed.
“Margaret took you.”
Eleanor looked at her.
“I saved you.”
“You kidnapped me?”
Margaret nodded.
“You were five.”
“Why?”
“Because Robert wanted to take you.”
Robert shook his head.
“I wanted my daughter.”
“You wanted the inheritance.”
“I wanted you.”
Eleanor felt tears burn her eyes.
“Then why did you let me believe you were dead?”
Robert looked away.
“Because Margaret threatened to expose your mother.”
“What would happen?”
“She would go to prison.”
Eleanor turned toward Margaret.
“And you?”
Margaret smiled sadly.
“I spent twenty years pretending to be someone I wasn't.”
Eleanor stared at her.
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
A long silence followed.
Then Lily spoke.
“Mommy?”
Eleanor turned.
“What's wrong?”
Lily pointed toward the window.
“There's someone outside.”
Everyone turned.
A shadow stood across the street.
Then it disappeared.
Jonathan moved toward the window.
“I'll check.”
He left.
Seconds later, a gunshot echoed from outside.
Eleanor screamed.
Jonathan returned through the doorway.
“Everyone down!”
Daniel pulled Eleanor and the girls behind the sofa.
Robert grabbed Margaret.
“Who is shooting?”
Jonathan looked toward the street.
“Someone is trying to scare us.”
Then a bullet shattered the window.
Glass exploded across the room.
Eleanor covered the girls.
A second shot followed.
Then silence.
Police sirens sounded in the distance.
Jonathan looked outside.
“Vehicle is gone.”
Eleanor stood slowly.
A small piece of paper lay on the floor.
She picked it up.
There was one sentence.
YOU REMEMBERED THE WRONG NIGHT.
Eleanor looked at Margaret.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret's face was pale.
“It means someone wants you to believe I killed your father.”
“You did.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
Eleanor stared.
“You just said—”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“Because the truth is worse.”
Eleanor waited.
Margaret whispered,
“Your father wasn't killed that night.”
“Then what happened?”
“He disappeared.”
“Where?”
Margaret looked toward Robert.
“He took the third child.”
Eleanor's blood ran cold.
“Which child?”
Margaret didn't answer.
Lily looked frightened.
Emily held Eleanor's hand.
Then Daniel whispered,
“Mom…”
Margaret turned.
Daniel's face was pale.
“I found something.”
He held up a photograph.
It showed three girls.
One was Lily.
One was Emily.
The third was the seventeen-year-old.
But behind them stood a fourth person.
A man.
Eleanor recognized him.
Her father.
But the photograph was dated two years after his supposed death.
Eleanor stared.
“He was alive.”
Robert nodded.
“Yes.”
“Where is he now?”
Margaret whispered,
“We don't know.”
Eleanor looked at the photograph again.
Her father was holding a document.
On it was one word.
MERCY.
Then Eleanor noticed something else.
The third girl was not looking at the camera.
She was looking directly at her father.
And in her hand was a small red key.
The same key Eleanor had seen in her childhood memory.
She whispered,
“The red door.”
Margaret's face changed.
“Yes.”
“What is behind it?”
Margaret looked at the girls.
“The fourth file.”
Eleanor frowned.
“Fourth?”
Margaret nodded.
“The file that proves there were never three children.”
Eleanor stared.
“How many were there?”
May you like
Margaret's voice became almost inaudible.
“Four.”
