CHAPTER 6 — THE PENDANT THAT DISAPPEARED
Ethan's scream tore through the apartment.
Samuel rushed into the bedroom.
"What happened?"
Ethan sat upright, breathing hard.
His eyes were fixed on the open window.
"The pendant."
Samuel looked around.
The chain was still on the bed.
But the silver pendant was gone.
He checked beneath the blanket.
Nothing.
Under the bed.
Nothing.
He ran to the window.
Cold rain blew through the opening.
Samuel looked down.
Three floors below, the alley was empty.
"Stay here."
He grabbed his jacket.
Ethan immediately climbed out of bed.
"No."
Samuel turned.
"You stay inside."
"But they took Mom's—"
"I know."
"I need it."
"I know."
"Then don't leave me."
Samuel stopped.
The fear in the boy's voice silenced him.
He walked back and knelt beside Ethan.
"I'm not leaving you."
Ethan stared at him.
"Promise?"
Samuel nodded.
"I promise."
Then his phone rang.
Laura.
Samuel answered.
"Laura."
"Did you find Ethan's pendant?"
Samuel looked toward the empty chain.
"No."
Silence.
"Samuel..."
"Someone took it."
"How?"
"The window."
Laura swore under her breath.
"Listen to me carefully. Do not leave the apartment."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Police are on their way."
"How long?"
"Ten minutes."
Samuel looked outside.
"That's too long."
"What do you mean?"
"Whoever took it knew exactly where it was."
Laura became silent.
Samuel continued.
"They knew Ethan had it."
"Which means..."
"They've been watching us."
Laura's voice dropped.
"Yes."
Five minutes later, Detective Marcus Reed arrived.
Two officers entered first.
Reed followed.
He examined the window.
"No forced entry."
Samuel shook his head.
"I told you."
Reed crouched near the windowsill.
"Whoever came in knew how to move quietly."
He pointed toward the floor.
"There's a partial footprint."
Samuel leaned closer.
"Can you identify the shoe?"
"Not yet."
Reed stood.
"Where was the pendant?"
Ethan answered.
"Here."
He pointed to the bedside table.
Reed looked at him.
"Did you wake up?"
"No."
"Did you hear anything?"
Ethan hesitated.
"Something."
"What?"
"A clicking sound."
"From where?"
"The window."
Reed looked at Samuel.
"Did the intruder speak?"
Ethan shook his head.
"Did you see him?"
"No."
"Then how do you know it was a man?"
Ethan looked down.
"I smelled him."
Reed frowned.
"What did he smell like?"
"Smoke."
Samuel's face changed.
"What kind?"
Ethan thought.
"Like a fireplace."
Reed wrote it down.
"Anything else?"
Ethan closed his eyes.
"Something sweet."
Samuel stared.
"Perfume?"
Ethan nodded.
"Maybe."
Reed exchanged a look with one of the officers.
"That's enough for now."
He stood.
Then Ethan said:
"Detective?"
Reed turned.
"I know him."
"What?"
"The man."
Ethan pointed toward the hallway.
"He was at the courthouse."
Reed's expression sharpened.
"Are you sure?"
Ethan nodded.
"He stood behind Dad."
Samuel froze.
"Who?"
Ethan looked at him.
"The man with the scar."
Across the city, Richard Hawthorne stood inside his office.
Victor's name had become a ghost haunting every room.
His attorney entered.
"We found the surveillance footage."
Richard turned.
"From the apartment?"
"Yes."
"Show me."
The attorney connected a laptop.
A video appeared.
The street outside Samuel's building.
2:13 A.M.
A black vehicle stopped.
A man stepped out.
He looked around.
Then entered the building.
Richard stared.
The image was grainy.
But the scar was visible.
"Jonathan Vale."
His attorney nodded.
"We believe so."
Richard watched the footage.
"Where did he go?"
"Third floor."
Richard's face tightened.
"Ethan."
"Yes."
"Did he take anything?"
"We don't know."
Richard looked at the screen.
"Zoom in."
The image sharpened.
The man emerged twelve minutes later.
He was carrying something small.
A silver object.
Richard whispered:
"The pendant."
His attorney nodded.
Richard's hands tightened.
"Why does Vale want it?"
"We don't know."
"Find out."
"We're trying."
Richard turned.
"Don't try."
His voice became cold.
"Find him."
Meanwhile, Claire stood in a hotel room in Boston.
She had received the message.
THE PENDANT IS GONE.
Her heart sank.
She immediately called Samuel.
No answer.
She called again.
Still nothing.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A distorted voice spoke.
"You should have stayed away."
Claire froze.
"Where is my son?"
"Safe."
"Where is the pendant?"
"Where it belongs."
"You don't know what you're doing."
A quiet laugh.
"Neither do you."
"Who are you?"
The voice paused.
"You've spent five years asking the wrong question."
"What question should I ask?"
"Who was Ethan's real guardian?"
Claire's blood ran cold.
"Richard."
"No."
"Then Samuel."
"No."
"Who?"
The voice whispered:
"The person who signed his birth certificate."
Claire's face went pale.
"What?"
The call ended.
Claire immediately opened an old box.
Inside were documents she had stolen from the Hawthorne estate years ago.
Birth certificate.
Medical records.
Insurance papers.
She spread them across the bed.
Then she saw something she had overlooked.
A second signature.
A witness.
Jonathan Vale.
Claire stared at it.
"No..."
She grabbed another document.
Ethan's original hospital record.
The same name.
Jonathan Vale.
She sat down.
If Jonathan had signed the birth certificate...
then he had known Ethan from the beginning.
And if he had known Ethan from birth...
why?
At the police station, Detective Reed placed three photographs on the table.
Samuel sat across from him.
Laura stood nearby.
Ethan sat beside Samuel.
Reed pointed to the first photograph.
"Victor Hawthorne."
Second.
"Jonathan Vale."
Third.
"Gerald Pike."
"All three are officially dead."
Samuel nodded.
"But we know they're not."
Reed pointed to another document.
"This is where it gets strange."
"What?"
"All three were connected to one company."
Laura leaned closer.
"Which company?"
Reed turned the page.
"Hawthorne Financial."
Richard's company.
Samuel frowned.
"But Richard wasn't the original owner."
"Correct."
"Jonathan Vale was."
Reed nodded.
"He founded the company twenty-two years ago."
Laura looked at Samuel.
"And Richard took control after Vale's death."
"Yes."
Samuel stared at the papers.
"What happened to Vale?"
"Officially, he died in a plane crash."
"And Victor?"
"Boating accident."
"Brooks?"
"Identity fraud."
Samuel shook his head.
"This is insane."
Reed leaned forward.
"No."
He pointed at the documents.
"It's organized."
He opened another file.
"Every time someone got close to the truth, they disappeared."
Samuel's eyes narrowed.
"Who was the first?"
Reed looked at Ethan.
"His mother."
The room became silent.
Then Ethan spoke.
"What about my dad?"
Reed looked at him.
"What about him?"
"Did he know?"
Reed hesitated.
"Know what?"
"That Mom was being hunted."
Samuel looked at Ethan.
The boy continued.
"Because if he knew..."
He stared at the floor.
"...why didn't he stop them?"
No one had an answer.
Richard drove alone that evening.
He had dismissed his driver.
He needed silence.
As he crossed the bridge, his phone rang.
Victor.
Richard answered.
"What do you want?"
"You've been asking questions."
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere you can't reach."
Richard gripped the steering wheel.
"You took the pendant."
"Yes."
"Give it back."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because it isn't yours."
Richard's voice hardened.
"It belongs to my son."
Victor laughed.
"Does it?"
"What does that mean?"
"You really don't know."
Richard felt a chill.
"Know what?"
Victor's voice became quieter.
"Ask yourself why Jonathan Vale signed Ethan's birth certificate."
Richard's foot lifted from the accelerator.
The car slowed.
"How do you know about that?"
"Because I was there."
Richard's breathing stopped.
"Where?"
"In the hospital."
"When Ethan was born?"
"Yes."
Richard whispered:
"You weren't supposed to know."
Victor laughed.
"Richard..."
Then his voice became deadly serious.
"You've spent eight years believing Ethan was your son."
Richard's heart pounded.
"He is my son."
"Are you sure?"
Richard's face went white.
"Don't."
"Ask yourself why Claire needed protection."
"She was afraid of you."
"No."
Victor paused.
"She was afraid of what she knew."
Richard's voice shook.
"What did she know?"
"That Ethan wasn't supposed to be born."
Richard slammed the brakes.
The car stopped at the side of the road.
He stared straight ahead.
"What did you say?"
Victor whispered:
"Your son was never part of the plan."
The call ended.
Richard remained frozen.
Then his phone vibrated.
A photograph arrived.
A hospital.
A newborn baby.
Claire lying exhausted in a bed.
And beside her...
Jonathan Vale.
Holding Ethan.
Richard's hands began shaking.
He zoomed in.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten message.
ASK WHO THE FATHER REALLY IS.
At the police station, Laura received a call.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice whispered:
"Is Ethan with you?"
Laura froze.
"Who is this?"
"Don't say my name."
Laura stood.
"Claire?"
Silence.
Then:
"Yes."
Laura's heart pounded.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"You need to come in."
"No."
"Claire, you're in danger."
"I know."
"Then let us protect you."
"I've spent five years protecting myself."
Laura looked at Samuel.
"What do you want?"
"I want Ethan."
"He's safe."
"For now."
Laura's voice tightened.
"What does that mean?"
"Victor has the pendant."
"We know."
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
Claire whispered:
"The pendant contains a key."
"A key to what?"
"The truth about Ethan."
Laura looked at Samuel.
"What truth?"
Claire hesitated.
Then:
"His birth records were altered."
Laura's face went pale.
"By whom?"
Claire whispered:
"Richard."
Samuel stood.
"Put her on speaker."
Laura did.
Samuel spoke.
"Claire."
Silence.
Then a shaky breath.
"Samuel."
"I saw you that night."
"I know."
"You were alive."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you come back?"
"I tried."
"When?"
"Several times."
"Why didn't you tell Ethan?"
"Because every time I got close..."
She stopped.
"What?"
"Someone died."
Samuel closed his eyes.
"Gerald?"
"Yes."
"Who else?"
"People who helped me."
Samuel looked at Ethan.
"Who was controlling you?"
Claire's voice became barely audible.
"The Chairman."
Laura asked:
"Who is the Chairman?"
Claire didn't answer.
Instead, she said:
"Samuel, do you remember the night Ethan was born?"
Samuel frowned.
"I wasn't there."
"You were."
Samuel froze.
"What?"
"You came to the hospital."
"I don't remember."
"You were outside the room."
Samuel stared at nothing.
A faint memory surfaced.
Fluorescent lights.
A hospital corridor.
Rain.
A newborn crying.
Claire screaming:
"Don't let him take my baby."
Samuel's breathing stopped.
Then another memory.
A man in a black coat.
Jonathan Vale.
Holding a newborn.
And Richard standing behind him.
Samuel whispered:
"I remember."
Claire asked:
"What?"
Samuel looked at Ethan.
"Your father wasn't alone."
Claire's voice cracked.
"I know."
"Who was with him?"
A long silence.
Then Claire said:
"The Chairman."
The call suddenly ended.
Laura stared at the phone.
Samuel looked at her.
"What happened?"
"No signal."
Ethan suddenly grabbed Samuel's hand.
"Sam."
"What?"
"I know who the Chairman is."
Everyone froze.
Samuel knelt.
"Who?"
Ethan looked terrified.
"He came to my room."
"When?"
"The night Mom disappeared."
"What did he look like?"
Ethan stared at the floor.
"He looked like..."
He stopped.
Samuel waited.
Ethan whispered:
"My grandfather."
Richard Hawthorne's father had supposedly died seventeen years earlier.
But Ethan remembered him.
And suddenly the entire conspiracy took a darker turn.
Because if Ethan was telling the truth...
the Chairman wasn't Victor.
Wasn't Jonathan Vale.
Wasn't even Richard.
It was the one man everyone believed had been dead for nearly two decades.
Edward Hawthorne.
The founder of the family fortune.
The man whose portrait still hung above the fireplace in the Hawthorne mansion.
The man Richard had spent his entire life trying to escape.
That night, Richard returned home.
The mansion was dark.
He entered the library.
His father's portrait hung above the fireplace.
Edward Hawthorne.
Cold eyes.
Silver hair.
The same expression Richard remembered from childhood.
Richard stared at it.
Then he whispered:
"Dad."
Nothing.
He walked toward the portrait.
He noticed something.
The frame was slightly crooked.
Richard reached behind it.
His fingers found a hidden latch.
He pressed it.
The wall clicked.
A secret compartment opened.
Inside was a small black box.
Richard pulled it out.
His hands shook.
He opened it.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And one envelope.
On the envelope was written:
FOR RICHARD — WHEN ETHAN IS EIGHT.
Richard stared.
He opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Only one sentence.
Your son is not your blood, but he is your responsibility.
Richard's knees weakened.
He sat down.
Another line appeared beneath it.
And when he turns eight, the Chairman will come for him.
Richard looked at the date.
The letter had been written eight years ago.
The exact day Ethan was born.
Richard whispered:
"Why?"
Then he saw the signature.
Edward Hawthorne.
His dead father.
Richard dropped the letter.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
No one spoke.
Then a child's voice came through.
Ethan.
"Is that you, Dad?"
Richard's blood turned to ice.
"Ethan?"
The voice laughed.
It wasn't Ethan.
It was a recording.
Then another voice followed.
Edward Hawthorne.
Richard's dead father.
"Hello, Richard."
Richard couldn't breathe.
The recording continued.
"If you're hearing this, my grandson has reached the age of eight."
Richard backed away.
"You cannot be alive."
The voice laughed.
"I don't need to be."
Richard stared at the hidden documents.
"The truth is already alive."
The recording ended.
Then one final message appeared on Richard's phone.
MIDNIGHT. HAWTHORNE ESTATE. COME ALONE.
Richard looked at the clock.
11:37 P.M.
He had twenty-three minutes.
May you like
And for the first time in his life...
Richard Hawthorne was afraid to go home.
