Chapter 9: My Brother Was Alive
I stared at the photograph until the room blurred around me.
The man in the wheelchair looked older than the brother I remembered, but the scar on his left cheek had always been there. He had received it when we were teenagers, after falling through a broken glass door while trying to retrieve a football.
I had taken him to the emergency room that night.
He had joked with the nurse, complained about the stitches, and insisted that I buy him a cheeseburger on the way home.
I remembered the way he laughed.
I remembered his terrible taste in music.
I remembered the last conversation we had before his accident.
He had called me late at night and asked whether I still trusted our mother.
I had laughed.
“Of course I trust Mom. Why wouldn't I?””
He had been silent for so long that I finally asked if he was still there.
Then he said, “Sometimes, Darius, the people who love us most are the ones who know exactly where to hurt us.””
I had assumed he was talking about a relationship.
I had told him to get some sleep.
The next morning, he was dead.
Now he was sitting in a wheelchair in a photograph sent by someone who knew where my mother was being held.
I looked at Detective Carter.
“I have to go.””
“No.””
“That's my brother.””
“And someone has used his photograph to lure you to a location associated with a suspected abduction.””
“What if it's really him?””
“Then we'll find him safely.””
“What if they move him before you get there?””
She held my gaze.
“Mr. Whitmore, listen to me. If Marcus survived the accident, he may have been threatened or coerced for years. We don't know whether he's working with Richard Vale, whether he's a victim, or whether the photograph is being used to manipulate you.””
I hated every possibility.
I hated that I couldn't simply drive to the old estate, throw open the door, and demand to know why my brother had allowed me to bury him in my heart for eleven years.
But I had Ava.
And I had Elena.
I couldn't make another reckless decision and call it courage.
“Then what do we do?”” I asked.
Carter looked at the message again.
“We verify the location, coordinate with the officers already investigating the estate, and establish whether anyone is inside. No one approaches alone.””
She immediately contacted the team assigned to the old property.
Within minutes, we had confirmation that a vehicle had been seen entering the grounds shortly before two in the morning.
The license plate matched a car registered to Richard Vale.
The estate was no longer simply a forgotten piece of family history.
It was an active crime scene.
And someone wanted me there before sunrise.
At 3:42 a.m., I sat beside Ava while Detective Carter coordinated the response.
Elena stood by the window, holding the photograph of Gabrielle.
She had barely spoken since seeing the image of Marcus.
“I thought he was dead,” she whispered.
I looked up.
“So did I.””
She turned toward me.
“Did he know what happened to Gabrielle?””
“I don't know.””
“Did he know I was alive?””
“I don't know.””
She looked away.
“Eleven years. Eleven years of waking up and wondering whether my daughter was cold, whether she was sick, whether she had learned to read, whether someone had told her I didn't want her.””
Her voice broke.
“And now I have a photograph of her, but I still don't know if she's safe.””
I stood and approached her.
“Elena, we'll find her.””
She laughed bitterly.
“You keep saying that as if the promise itself can protect her.””
“No. But it can remind us what we're fighting for.””
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
I understood that she didn't need another promise.
She needed evidence that someone was finally doing something.
My phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered and put it on speaker so Detective Carter could hear.
“Darius.””
The voice was familiar.
Not Richard Vale.
Not Denise.
My brother.
I gripped the phone.
“Marcus?””
A shaky breath came through the speaker.
“Hello, little brother.””
My knees nearly gave way.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
I had imagined hearing his voice a thousand times. In dreams, in memories, and in the moments just before waking.
But those imagined conversations had always ended with me realizing he was gone.
This time, he was real.
“Marcus,” I whispered.
“Where are you?””
“Somewhere I should never have gone.””
“Are you alive?””
He gave a short, painful laugh.
“Last time I checked.””
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
“You let me bury you.””
“I didn't have a choice.””
“You let me mourn you for eleven years!””
“I know.””
“No, you don't know! I stood at your grave. I listened to Mom cry. I watched your friends carry flowers to a coffin that I believed held my brother.””
My voice cracked.
“I thought I had failed you.””
Marcus was silent.
Then he said, “I'm sorry.””
Two words.
They were not enough.
They were also the first words I had needed to hear from him in eleven years.
“Why?”” I asked.
“Because if I had come back, they would have killed you too.””
“Who?””
“Mom. Richard. And the person Richard answers to.””
I felt cold.
“You're saying our mother ordered the accident?””
“She arranged it.””
“Then how did you survive?””
Marcus took a shaky breath.
“The car went off the road. I was trapped inside, but someone pulled me out before the emergency crews arrived. I woke up in a private clinic three days later. They told me I had been declared dead and that my mother had already arranged the funeral.””
“Who pulled you out?””
“I never saw his face.””
“Then how do you know Mom was involved?””
“Because Richard came to my room the next night. He showed me the hospital paperwork, the death certificate, and the documents that transferred my company shares to a trust controlled by Mom.””
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn't you contact me?””
“I tried once.””
“When?””
“Two years after the crash. I called your office from a pay phone. You answered.””
I remembered the call.
A man had asked whether I still used the same private security company. I had assumed it was a sales call and hung up.
Marcus continued.
“You told me you were in a meeting. I heard someone enter the room behind you. Then you said you'd call me back.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who was behind me?””
“I don't know. But when I called the number again, it had been disconnected. Two days later, someone left a photograph of you and Ava outside my door.””
I looked at my daughter.
She was sleeping peacefully, unaware that her life had become the center of a battle that began before she was born.
Marcus's voice softened.
“I thought staying away was the only way to protect you.””
“You were wrong.””
“I know.””
I swallowed.
“Where is Mom?””
His breathing changed.
“Richard has her.””
“Where are you?””
“At the old estate.””
“Are you alone?””
“No.””
A pause followed.
Then he whispered, “Darius, I need you to listen carefully. There are two children involved, and only one of them knows the truth about what happened in that hospital.””
I glanced at Elena.
She was staring at me, her face drained of color.
“Marcus, what are you talking about?””
“The twins.””
My heart stopped.
“You said Elena had one daughter.””
“She gave birth to one child that night. But there were two babies transferred through that hospital. Gabrielle was one. Ava was the other.””
I shook my head.
“Then who are Ava's biological parents?””
Marcus was silent.
“Marcus?””
“I don't know everything. The records were altered, and the people who arranged it made sure no one could reconstruct the original transfers.””
“But you know something.””
“Yes.””
“What?””
He exhaled shakily.
“Darius, Ava isn't Elena's daughter. But she isn't the orphan Simone claimed to have adopted, either.””
My mind raced.
“Then who is she?””
“I think she's the child your father believed had died before you were born.””
I felt the room tilt.
“My father had another child?””
“Not another child. A daughter he never knew existed.””
I stared at the phone.
“That's impossible.””
“Your father had a relationship before he met Mom. The woman was pregnant when she disappeared. Mom told him the child had died.””
I could barely breathe.
“Who was the woman?””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Her name was Patricia Brooks.””
Elena made a small, strangled sound.
“That's my mother,” she whispered.
I turned toward her.
She looked as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet.
“My mother died when I was a teenager,” she said.
“She never told me anything about Darius's father.””
Marcus continued.
“Patricia was pregnant when she left the city. Years later, her daughter gave birth to Gabrielle. The family connection was the reason Mom and Richard became so desperate to control the records.””
I gripped the phone.
“Are you saying Ava and Gabrielle are related?””
“Yes. But I don't know how closely until we get the original records.””
Detective Carter raised a hand, signaling that she needed to speak.
I put the phone on speaker.
“This is Detective Renee Carter,” she said.
“Marcus, we need to establish your exact location and ensure you are safe.””
He hesitated.
“Are you with Darius?””
“Yes.””
“Then I need him to stay away from the east entrance. Richard has people watching the road.””
Carter immediately relayed the information to the officers coordinating the response.
“Marcus, can you tell us where Richard is holding Lorraine?””
“The basement.””
“Is Gabrielle with you?””
“No.””
“Do you know where she is?””
He paused.
Then he said, “She's in the house.””
Elena rushed toward the phone.
“Marcus, please. Is my daughter alive?””
“Yes.””
A sob escaped Elena.
“Can I speak to her?””
“Not yet. Richard has her separated from us.””
“Why?””
“Because she knows something he wants buried.””
I stared at the phone.
“What does Gabrielle know?””
Marcus's voice dropped to a whisper.
“She found the original hospital ledger. The one that shows who ordered the transfers and which child was supposed to leave with whom.””
“Where is it?””
“Gabrielle hid it before Richard found her.””
“Where?””
Marcus took a breath.
“In the place where our father kept his old records.””
I knew exactly where he meant.
The locked cabinet in my father's study.
The cabinet my mother had insisted was empty after his death.
“Marcus, I'm coming.””
“No!””
His shout startled everyone.
“Darius, listen to me. You can't come through the front. Richard expects you there. If you arrive before the police secure the property, he'll use you to force Mom to reveal what she knows.””
“Then tell me where to go.””
A long silence followed.
Then Marcus said, “The old greenhouse.””
I looked at Detective Carter.
She nodded to an officer, who immediately relayed the information to the team near the estate.
Marcus continued.
“There is a service entrance behind the greenhouse. I can get to it, but I can't stay much longer.””
“Why?””
“Because Richard just found out I've been talking to you.””
A crash sounded through the phone.
Marcus cursed.
Then another voice shouted in the background.
Richard.
“Give me the phone!””
The line went silent.
I stood frozen, staring at the screen.
Detective Carter was already moving.
“Units are advancing on the estate. We have enough information to treat this as an urgent hostage situation.””
Elena grabbed my arm.
“Darius, please.””
I looked at her.
“We're going to find Gabrielle.””
“And Marcus?””
I thought of the brother I had mourned for eleven years.
“We're bringing him home too.””
Then the phone vibrated again.
A final message appeared.
It was a photograph of an open hospital ledger.
Two entries were visible.
*BABY A — GABRIELLE BROOKS.*
*BABY B — AVA WHITMORE.*
Beneath them, in handwriting I recognized as my mother's, was a note.
The biological relationship must never be disclosed.
At the bottom of the page was a third name.
*RICHARD VALE.*
May you like
And beside it, a handwritten instruction that made my blood run cold.
If either child discovers the truth, eliminate the witnesses.
