CHAPTER 10 — “I KILLED HER”
I stared at the black screen.
72 HOURS.
Three days.
That was all the man claiming to be Daniel Cross had given me.
Three days to decide whether I would hand over my daughter.
Three days before Rachel supposedly disappeared.
Three days to uncover a truth that my own family had spent four years burying.
I closed the laptop.
Rachel was sitting across from me, staring at nothing.
“Did you know about Daniel?”
She shook her head.
“Not that he was alive.”
“But you knew his name.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My father talked about him.”
“Your father?”
She nodded.
“Thomas Cross.”
I leaned back.
“Tell me about him.”
Rachel took a long breath.
“Thomas wasn't a good man.”
“Was he involved with my father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“They worked together.”
“On what?”
Rachel looked toward the stairs.
“The foundation.”
I remembered the financial documents.
Millions moving through accounts.
Emma's name.
The trust.
“Was Thomas involved in the money?”
“Yes.”
“Was Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
“Was Sarah?”
Rachel hesitated.
“She tried to get out.”
That sentence caught my attention.
“Get out of what?”
“The foundation.”
“Why?”
“Because she discovered what the money was actually being used for.”
“What?”
Rachel looked directly at me.
“Buying children.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“Explain.”
“The foundation claimed to help families who couldn't afford medical care. But some of the money went into private accounts.”
“Whose accounts?”
“Lawyers. Doctors. Hospital administrators.”
“And?”
“People who arranged adoptions.”
I stared at her.
“Illegal adoptions?”
Rachel nodded.
“But Emma wasn't adopted.”
“No.”
“Then why was she involved?”
“Because she wasn't supposed to be.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Rachel reached for the black notebook.
She opened it to the final pages.
The amounts were larger.
$10,000.
$15,000.
$25,000.
Then one entry stood out.
EMMA — FINAL RELEASE: $60,000,000
My heart stopped.
“The trust.”
“Yes.”
“When Emma turns five?”
“Yes.”
“Who gets the money?”
Rachel shook her head.
“No one.”
“What?”
“The trust doesn't pay the money to a person.”
She pointed to the legal language.
“It transfers control of the foundation.”
I read it again.
The beneficiary wasn't receiving sixty million dollars.
The beneficiary was becoming the legal controlling heir.
Which meant Emma wouldn't simply inherit money.
She would inherit an empire.
An empire powerful enough to threaten people.
I looked at Rachel.
“That's why they want her.”
“Yes.”
“Who controls it now?”
“Daniel Cross.”
“But if Emma turns five…”
“He loses control.”
I finally understood.
Daniel wasn't trying to get Emma because he wanted her.
He wanted what she represented.
The trust.
The foundation.
The money.
The records.
And whatever else my grandfather had hidden.
I stood.
“Then we're not taking Emma anywhere.”
Rachel nodded.
“Good.”
“We're going to find Daniel.”
Her face changed.
“How?”
I picked up the photograph.
“Through Evelyn.”
Rachel stared at me.
“Evelyn is dead.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
I held up the photograph from the attic.
“You said she disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“You said her body was found.”
“Yes.”
“Then why does her death certificate contain no medical examiner's signature?”
Rachel went silent.
I pulled the document from the folder.
The death certificate was real.
But the signature was missing.
So was the hospital record.
There was no autopsy.
No burial location.
No cemetery.
No photographs of her body.
Nothing.
Just a piece of paper saying she was dead.
I looked at Rachel.
“Evelyn Cross may still be alive.”
Rachel shook her head.
“No.”
“You're afraid she is.”
Rachel's eyes filled with tears.
“I saw her.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
I froze.
“At the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“After Emma was born?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she made me promise.”
“What promise?”
“That I would protect Emma.”
“From Daniel?”
Rachel shook her head.
“From everyone.”
I stared at her.
“Everyone?”
Rachel whispered,
“Even you.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
“You thought I would hurt my own daughter?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I thought you would trust the wrong person.”
I looked at the documents.
She wasn't wrong.
I'd trusted everyone.
My father.
Rachel.
The lawyers.
The hospital.
The foundation.
Even Sarah's medical records.
Every one of them had lied to me.
I picked up my phone.
“We need a lawyer.”
“I know someone.”
“Who?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
I laughed bitterly.
“The same lawyer my father used?”
“Yes.”
“Why would I trust him?”
“You shouldn't.”
“Then why call him?”
“Because he knows where the original trust documents are.”
I looked at her.
“And if he refuses?”
Rachel's expression hardened.
“Then we make him afraid.”
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang.
We froze.
I checked the security monitor.
A man stood on the porch.
Gray suit.
Black briefcase.
I recognized him.
Daniel Mercer.
I opened the door but didn't let him inside.
“Mr. Bennett.”
“What do you want?”
“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
“The notebook?”
He smiled.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Your father's box.”
I tightened my grip on the door.
“How do you know about it?”
“Because I was there when your father hid it.”
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“And you lied to me for eleven years.”
“I was following instructions.”
“Whose?”
He looked past me.
Toward the stairs.
Toward Emma's bedroom.
Then he whispered:
“Sarah's.”
My blood went cold.
“Sarah knew?”
Mercer nodded.
“She knew everything.”
“Then why did she never tell me?”
He looked at me sadly.
“Because she was trying to keep you alive.”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Mercer glanced at the ceiling.
“Michael, you need to listen carefully.”
“What?”
“Daniel Cross isn't coming for Emma.”
“Then why does he want her?”
Mercer lowered his voice.
“Because someone else is coming for you.”
“Who?”
He opened his briefcase.
Inside was a single file.
On the cover:
MICHAEL BENNETT — SUBJECT 17
I stared at it.
“What is this?”
May you like
Mercer said:
“The truth about your childhood.”
