Chapter 7: The Woman Upstairs
The drawer slammed shut upstairs.
Then came footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Nobody spoke.
I looked at my father.
His face had gone pale.
Adrian was no longer smiling.
And that frightened me more than anything else.
Because whoever was upstairs had silenced the man who seemed to fear nothing.
“Who is up there?”” I whispered.
Thomas didn't answer.
“Dad.””
He finally looked at me.
“It isn't your mother.””
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
Then confusion replaced it.
“You just said it was.””
“I said she was here.””
“You said your mother.””
“I said someone wanted you to think she was.””
Adrian turned toward the staircase.
“We have thirty seconds.””
“For what?”” I asked.
“To get you out.””
The footsteps stopped.
I heard a faint creak overhead.
Then a woman's voice floated through the house.
“Claire?””
My blood ran cold.
It was my mother's voice.
Perfect.
Every syllable.
Every pause.
The exact soft tone she used when she called me downstairs for dinner.
“Claire, sweetheart?””
My father closed his eyes.
I covered my mouth.
“No.””
The voice came again.
“Come upstairs.””
Adrian moved toward me.
“Don't answer.””
“But that's my mother.””
“No,” Thomas said firmly.
“That isn't her.””
The voice laughed softly.
And suddenly I noticed something.
My mother's voice had always carried warmth.
This one didn't.
It sounded practiced.
Like someone who had memorized a recording.
Then she said something that made the hairs on my arms rise.
“Claire, you still sleep with the little silver locket under your pillow.””
I stopped breathing.
Nobody knew that.
Nobody except my mother.
She had given me that locket when I was twelve.
After she died, I kept it beside me every night.
Thomas stared at me.
“Did you tell Daniel?””
“No.””
“Adrian?””
“No.””
The three of us exchanged a glance.
The voice upstairs spoke again.
“You see?””
A pause.
“I know everything about you.””
Adrian whispered:
“She has access to your mother's private archives.””
I looked at him.
“How?””
“Because your mother left instructions.””
That answer made no sense.
“My mother is dead.””
Thomas stepped closer.
“Claire, there is something you need to understand.””
“I've heard enough things I need to understand tonight.””
He didn't react.
“Your mother prepared for her death.””
I laughed bitterly.
“She was sick.””
“She knew.””
My laughter disappeared.
“What did she know?””
“That people would come looking for what your father left behind.””
Adrian interrupted.
“And she knew they would use you to find it.””
I looked toward the staircase.
“What's upstairs?””
Thomas hesitated.
“Your mother's bedroom.””
My chest tightened.
Her bedroom had been untouched since the day she died.
I had closed the door and never opened it again.
Not really.
I had gone inside once after the funeral, stood beside her bed, and cried until I couldn't breathe.
Then I shut the door.
“Why would someone be in there?””
Thomas looked at Adrian.
Adrian answered.
“Because that's where she hid the first piece.””
“The first piece of what?””
“Your inheritance.””
“My inheritance is money.””
Adrian shook his head.
“No.””
He reached into his coat again and pulled out the black folder.
“This is what your mother was protecting.””
I stared at it.
“Then why did Daniel go after it?””
“He didn't.””
“Your husband came into your office.””
“Yes.””
“He opened my safe.””
“Yes.””
“He knew the key.””
“Yes.””
“And you're telling me he wasn't after this?””
Adrian held up the folder.
“He was making sure I didn't get it.””
I couldn't answer.
Thomas stepped toward me.
“Daniel knew you were being watched.””
“By Adrian?””
“No.””
“Then by who?””
Thomas's expression tightened.
“By the people who worked with your mother.””
I stared at him.
“My mother had people working for her?””
“Your mother had a network.””
“A network?””
“They weren't criminals,” Thomas said quickly.
Adrian gave him a look.
“Not all of them.””
I ignored them.
“What did she do?””
My father's face crumpled.
“She spent years cleaning up what I left behind.””
That sentence silenced the room.
“You?””
Thomas nodded.
“I made a mistake.””
“What mistake?””
He looked down.
“I trusted someone.””
The woman upstairs suddenly shouted.
“Thomas!””
My father flinched.
The voice wasn't my mother's anymore.
It was angry.
Deep.
Human.
Then came three hard knocks against the upstairs bedroom door.
Thomas looked at the ceiling.
Adrian checked his watch.
“Twenty seconds.””
“Until what?””
“Until she comes down.””
“Who is she?””
Adrian looked directly at me.
“Margaret.””
My heart stopped.
“Margaret Hale?””
“Yes.””
The woman who warned me about Daniel.
The woman who had told me my mother knew him.
The woman who had disappeared.
I shook my head.
“No.””
Adrian nodded.
“She has been feeding you information all night.””
“But she called me.””
“I know.””
“Why would she lie?””
Thomas answered.
“Because she was there when your father disappeared.””
Another bang shook the ceiling.
Then the upstairs door opened.
A woman's footsteps began descending.
One.
Two.
Three.
We had no more time.
Adrian grabbed my wrist.
“Back door.””
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me.””
He released me immediately.
“Fine. Then choose.””
He pointed toward the front door.
“Leave now.””
Then toward the staircase.
“Or get answers.””
I looked at my father.
He didn't move.
“Dad.””
He met my eyes.
“I won't force you.””
For the first time tonight, somebody had given me a choice.
I picked up the black folder.
“Then I'm staying.””
Adrian nodded once.
“Good.””
We moved into the kitchen.
Thomas opened a narrow door beside the pantry.
I had lived in this house for three years and had never noticed it.
“What is that?””
“A service passage.””
He pushed it open.
Behind it was a narrow staircase leading downward.
“Where does that go?””
“Garage.””
“That's ridiculous.””
“Your mother had it built.””
I stared at him.
Of course she had.
Secrets inside secrets.
We descended three steps.
Then I stopped.
Something had caught my eye.
A small security monitor mounted on the wall.
Four camera feeds.
Front door.
Back garden.
Office.
Upstairs hallway.
My eyes locked onto the fourth screen.
Margaret stood outside my mother's bedroom.
She was holding a gun.
I stopped breathing.
She wasn't alone.
A man stood behind her.
Wearing Daniel's clothes.
But it wasn't Daniel.
The same face.
The same body.
The same impossible resemblance.
There were two of them.
I turned toward Adrian.
“What am I looking at?””
He swore under his breath.
Thomas looked at the screen.
Then at me.
“They found him.””
“Found who?””
“Daniel.””
My throat tightened.
“Where?””
Thomas pointed at the monitor.
“The man behind Margaret.””
I stared.
The real Daniel was on the screen.
His hands were tied behind his back.
His face was bruised.
He looked directly into the camera.
As if he knew I was watching.
Then he mouthed three words.
I couldn't hear them.
I leaned closer.
“What is he saying?””
Adrian stepped beside me.
His face went still.
“He's telling you to run.””
I looked back at the screen.
Daniel mouthed it again.
Run, Claire.
Run now.
Then Margaret turned.
And looked directly into the camera.
She smiled.
Not my mother's smile.
Not the smile of an old family friend.
Something colder.
Something that told me she knew exactly where the monitor was.
She slowly raised one finger to her lips.
Then she mouthed a single word.
“Daughter.””
My father's hand closed around my shoulder.
I turned toward him.
“Why did she call me that?””
He didn't answer.
I looked at the monitor again.
Margaret had moved closer to Daniel.
She leaned toward him and said something.
The camera had no audio.
But Daniel's expression changed.
His eyes filled with terror.
Then Margaret turned her face toward the camera.
This time, I could read her lips.
“Ask your father who your real mother is.””
The monitor went black.
Every screen died at once.
And in the darkness behind us, the hidden garage door began to open.
Someone was coming through.
A woman's voice whispered from the other side.
“Claire.””
My father stepped in front of me.
May you like
But the voice continued.
“It's time you met the woman who gave birth to you.””
