CHAPTER 12 — THE LAST TRAIN TO MICHIGAN
My father was gone.
Again.
But this time I knew he was alive.
And that somehow made everything worse.
Dominic stood beside the bloodstained wall.
His weapon remained in his hand.
He looked at me.
“Avery.”
“Don't.”
“I didn't shoot him.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He lowered the weapon.
“Then we need to move.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever took him knows where we are.”
My mother's room was empty.
The bed had been stripped.
The IV line had been cut.
I stared.
“She was here.”
Dominic looked around.
“Not anymore.”
“She was unconscious.”
“Someone moved her.”
“Who?”
He found a piece of paper on the floor.
One word.
MICHIGAN.
I picked it up.
“The real vault.”
He nodded.
“That's where they're taking her.”
“Then we go.”
We left the clinic through a hidden tunnel.
At the end waited a black SUV.
I got in.
Dominic took the driver's seat.
Neither of us spoke for several miles.
Finally, I said:
“Tell me the truth.”
“I will.”
“Did you kill my father?”
“No.”
“Did you ever hurt him?”
“No.”
“Did you know he was alive?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
Dominic hesitated.
“I don't know who my father was.”
I looked at him.
“That's not an answer.”
“It is the only honest one I have.”
I turned toward the window.
Chicago disappeared behind us.
The highway stretched into darkness.
After an hour, Dominic spoke.
“My memories aren't complete.”
“I know.”
“No.”
He glanced at me.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
“I remember being six.”
“And?”
“I remember a man teaching me to shoot.”
My stomach tightened.
“Your father?”
“I thought so.”
“Was it?”
“I don't know.”
“What else?”
“I remember a woman screaming.”
“Sofia?”
“Maybe.”
“And then?”
“I remember your father.”
“What was he doing?”
“Carrying me.”
I turned toward him.
“Where?”
“A train station.”
I froze.
“The old train station?”
“Yes.”
“Michigan?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
The photograph.
The man with the scar.
The train station.
Everything connected.
“That's where Gabriel disappeared.”
Dominic nodded.
“Or Elias.”
I swallowed.
“Which one survived?”
“I don't know.”
He pulled over.
“Why are we stopping?”
He looked at me.
“Because someone is following us.”
A black sedan appeared in the rearview mirror.
Then another.
Then a third.
Dominic accelerated.
The cars followed.
“Seat belt.”
I pulled it tight.
“Can you lose them?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Hold on.”
The SUV veered onto a narrow road.
One sedan followed.
The second overshot.
The third disappeared.
Dominic drove through an abandoned construction site.
Concrete barriers flew past.
The sedan crashed behind us.
We continued.
Five minutes later, we stopped beneath a bridge.
Silence.
I looked at Dominic.
“You planned that.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I used to race.”
“You?”
He smiled faintly.
“A long time ago.”
“Before you became a billionaire?”
“Before I became anything.”
I laughed despite myself.
The tension broke for one second.
Then he looked at me.
“You're still scared.”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
I looked at him.
“You're scared?”
“For you.”
My heart skipped.
He looked away.
“We need to keep moving.”
I nodded.
We reached Michigan just before sunrise.
The old train station was abandoned.
Broken windows.
Rusting tracks.
A faded sign.
BLACKWATER.
My father's handwriting was carved into one of the wooden posts.
A.C.
I touched it.
“He was here.”
Dominic nodded.
A sound came from inside.
We entered.
The station was empty.
Then I noticed a child-sized handprint on the wall.
Dust surrounded it.
I touched it.
Another memory.
A little boy.
A scar beneath his eye.
He held my hand.
“Don't cry.”
I was crying.
“Where are we going?”
He smiled.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Will you come?”
“I'll find you.”
The memory vanished.
I stumbled.
Dominic caught me.
“Gabriel.”
He looked at me.
“You remembered?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He promised he'd find me.”
Dominic stared at the handprint.
Then he noticed something.
A small metal plate beneath it.
He removed the plate.
Behind it was a key.
Engraved:
A.C. — 17
I stared.
“My initials.”
Dominic handed it to me.
“What does seventeen mean?”
“My age.”
I inserted the key into a hidden lock beneath the station floor.
Nothing happened.
Then I remembered my father's lessons.
Not just fighting.
Observation.
I looked at the wall.
Three bricks were slightly different.
I pressed them in sequence.
Click.
The floor opened.
A staircase descended into darkness.
Dominic looked at me.
“You knew how to do that.”
“I didn't.”
“Yes, you did.”
I stared at my own hands.
Some part of me had always known.
We descended.
At the bottom was a steel door.
A biometric scanner.
I placed my hand against it.
The door opened.
Inside was a room filled with monitors.
And photographs.
Hundreds of them.
My father had been watching everyone.
Richard.
Matteo.
Vanessa.
Dominic.
Me.
My mother.
But one photograph stopped me.
It showed me at seventeen.
Standing beside Gabriel.
And behind us...
was Dominic.
But Dominic was younger.
And there was something in his hand.
A gun.
I stared.
“Dominic.”
He stepped beside me.
“I don't remember that.”
“Were you there?”
“Yes.”
“Did you shoot someone?”
“No.”
I looked closer.
The photograph had been taken seconds before something happened.
A fourth person stood in the doorway.
I zoomed in.
My blood turned cold.
It was Vanessa.
She was holding a knife.
Dominic stared.
“She was there.”
“Yes.”
“Then she lied.”
“About everything.”
A monitor suddenly turned on.
My father's face appeared.
“If you're watching this, Avery, then you've reached Blackwater.”
I stepped closer.
“This message is for you.”
His eyes shifted toward the camera.
“You are going to learn something that will hurt.”
I swallowed.
“Dominic was never your enemy.”
I looked at him.
“He was the reason I survived.”
The recording continued.
“Eight years ago, I discovered that the Circle had been infiltrated by someone I trusted.”
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
I froze.
My father continued.
“The betrayal came from Linda.”
I stopped breathing.
My mother.
“No.”
“She didn't betray me willingly.”
A pause.
“She was threatened.”
“By whom?”
My father's expression darkened.
“By the man who has been pretending to be dead.”
I felt cold.
“Richard?”
“No.”
The screen flickered.
A photograph appeared.
An older man.
Scar beneath his eye.
The same face as the man I had seen at the station.
My father said one word:
“Gabriel.”
I stared.
“He survived.”
Dominic's face changed.
“But he isn't protecting you.”
The screen went black.
Then one final message appeared:
HE IS THE ONE WHO KILLED ME.
I stepped backward.
“No.”
Dominic caught me.
“Avery.”
I shook my head.
“My father said Gabriel killed him.”
“Yes.”
“But Gabriel saved me.”
“Maybe he did.”
“Then why?”
Dominic looked at the screen.
“Because maybe your father wanted us to believe Gabriel was the enemy.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
He pointed toward the final photograph.
I stepped closer.
The photograph showed Gabriel.
Vanessa.
Richard.
Matteo.
And my mother.
All standing together.
But someone had been cut out of the photograph.
Only a hand remained.
A man's hand.
Wearing a distinctive black ring.
Dominic looked at his own hand.
His face went pale.
He wore the same ring.
I stared at him.
“You said you'd never seen it.”
“I haven't.”
“Then why are you wearing it?”
He looked at the ring.
“I don't know.”
A metallic click sounded behind us.
We turned.
The steel door was closing.
A voice came through the speakers.
“Hello, Dominic.”
He froze.
A man's voice.
Older.
Cold.
Familiar.
“It's time to remember.”
The lights went out.
And somewhere in the darkness, a gun was cocked.
Then a voice whispered directly behind me:
“Don't turn around, Avery.”
I recognized it.
Gabriel.
“Because if you see who is standing behind you…”
May you like
A pause.
“…you'll finally remember who pulled the trigger.”
