Chapter 5: The Coffin That Lied
The impact threw me against the passenger door.
Glass shattered behind us.
Alexander slammed his foot onto the accelerator, sending the sedan forward between two concrete pillars.
"Put your seat belt on!""
I struggled to fasten it.
The black SUV reversed, its tires screeching against the polished garage floor.
"Who are they?"" I shouted.
Alexander checked the rearview mirror.
"I don't know!""
"Someone just tried to kill us!""
"I noticed!""
He swerved around a parked limousine.
The SUV followed.
Its headlights filled the rear window.
Alexander grabbed his phone.
"Call the police!""
I dialed emergency services while he drove toward the exit.
The SUV struck us again.
My head hit the window.
"Alexander!""
"I've got it!""
He turned sharply.
The sedan scraped a concrete wall, leaving a long trail of paint behind.
Ahead, the security gate began descending.
Alexander accelerated.
The car shot underneath it just before it reached the ground.
The SUV stopped on the other side.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
I could hear my own breathing.
Then Alexander pulled into a brightly lit gas station and stopped beside a row of fuel pumps.
"Are you hurt?""
I shook my head.
"Where's my mother?""
He stared at the phone in his hand.
"I don't know.""
I grabbed it.
"Call her again.""
He dialed the number.
It went straight to voicemail.
I tried once more.
Nothing.
Then I noticed something on the screen.
The number wasn't saved under Margaret Hayes.
It was saved under a different name.
*M. REED.*
I looked at Alexander.
"Why is my mother's number saved under your father's surname?""
His expression changed.
He took the phone back.
"That's impossible.""
"Explain it.""
He scrolled through the contact information.
The number had been saved seventeen years earlier.
His father had labeled it:
Margaret — emergency only.
Alexander sat motionless.
"My father knew your mother.""
"You said they were business partners.""
"They were.""
"Was there anything else?""
He didn't answer.
I leaned forward.
"Alexander, was my mother having an affair with your father?""
He looked horrified.
"I don't know.""
"Then find out.""
He opened the leather folder again.
A second photograph had been tucked behind the first.
This one showed my mother holding a newborn baby.
On the back were four words.
My son. My greatest mistake.
I stared at it.
My mother had never told me she had another child.
Alexander took the photograph.
His hands began trembling.
"That's my father's handwriting.""
I looked at him.
"What does it mean?""
He swallowed.
"I was adopted.""
The world seemed to stop.
"What?""
"My parents told me I was adopted when I was ten. They said my biological mother died during childbirth.""
He looked at the photograph.
"Nobody ever told me who she was.""
I stared at my mother's face.
Then at Alexander.
The same dark eyes.
The same small crease between the eyebrows.
I stepped backward.
"No.""
Alexander shook his head.
"I don't know if this means anything.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Your father knew my mother before I was born.""
"Yes.""
"And you were born before me.""
He nodded.
I couldn't finish the thought.
The man I had met three hours earlier might be my brother.
And if that was true, the Sterling family's scandal was only the beginning.
At eleven thirty, Alexander drove us to an old apartment building on the east side of the city.
It belonged to his late father's former assistant, a woman named Helen Brooks.
He had found her address inside the leather folder.
Helen opened the door wearing a gray cardigan and thick glasses.
She was in her late sixties.
When she saw Alexander, she nearly dropped the cup in her hand.
"Good Lord.""
"Hello, Helen.""
She looked at me.
Then back at him.
"Who's this?""
"Eleanor Hayes.""
The cup slipped from her fingers.
It shattered against the floor.
"Oh, no.""
I stepped forward.
"You know my mother?""
Helen stared at me.
"Margaret?""
"Yes.""
She covered her mouth.
Then she opened the door wider.
"Come inside. Both of you.""
The apartment was filled with old books, framed photographs, and boxes of paperwork.
Helen locked the door behind us.
Alexander showed her the photograph.
"Do you recognize this?""
Helen sat down heavily.
"Where did you find that?""
"My father's belongings.""
She touched the edge of the picture.
"Your father wanted me to destroy it.""
"Why didn't you?""
"Because I couldn't.""
I moved closer.
"Who is the baby?""
Helen looked at Alexander.
Then at me.
"Your mother had a son before she had you.""
Alexander closed his eyes.
"Was it me?""
Helen nodded.
"Yes.""
I gripped the back of a chair.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?""
Helen looked down.
"Because Margaret was afraid.""
"Of what?""
"Of losing both children.""
Alexander sat opposite her.
"Tell us everything.""
Helen took a long breath.
"Your father, Thomas Reed, and Daniel Hayes were best friends. They started the construction company together. Margaret worked in the accounts department.""
She paused.
"Thomas fell in love with her.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"And Daniel?""
"Daniel knew. He was already in love with Margaret. They had been planning to marry.""
Helen looked at Alexander.
"Thomas was married at the time. He told Margaret he would leave his wife, but he never did.""
Alexander looked sick.
"Was I born before my father married my mother?""
"Yes.""
"Then why did he say my mother died during childbirth?""
Helen lowered her eyes.
"Because your biological mother was Margaret.""
Alexander stood up.
I looked at him.
He seemed unable to breathe.
Helen continued.
"Thomas wanted to raise you. Margaret refused to give you up. But when Daniel discovered the relationship, the three of them had a terrible argument.""
"About me?"" Alexander asked.
"About everything. The company. The relationship. The money.""
I sat down.
"How did the accident happen?""
Helen opened a cabinet and removed a thick folder.
"Sterling Development had been cutting costs. Richard ordered changes to the safety system. Thomas discovered the violations and wanted to report them.""
She placed the folder on the table.
"Daniel refused to approve the changes. He threatened to shut down the entire project.""
I opened the folder.
Inside were invoices, inspection records, and handwritten notes.
One page had been marked in red.
Emergency support removed. Approval pending.
I recognized the handwriting.
My father's.
Helen pointed toward another document.
"Richard needed someone to blame when the accident happened. Your father was the perfect target because he had already refused to cooperate.""
I stared at the papers.
"Then why was my mother's signature on the approval?""
Helen's expression became troubled.
"Because she signed a temporary administrative authorization.""
"Why?""
"Richard told her it was needed to protect the company while the investigation was underway.""
Alexander leaned forward.
"Did she know what she was signing?""
"No. Not at first.""
I looked at the documents.
"And later?""
Helen hesitated.
"Later, she discovered that her signature had been used to approve the unsafe construction changes.""
My throat tightened.
"So she helped frame my father?""
Helen shook her head.
"She tried to stop it. She went to Thomas and demanded the original report.""
"What happened?""
"He told her to hide it.""
I looked at the photograph.
"Where?""
Helen opened another drawer.
She removed a small brass key.
"Your mother gave me this before she disappeared.""
I stared at it.
"What's it for?""
"A storage unit.""
"Where?""
"At the old railway station.""
Alexander reached for the key.
"Do you know what's inside?""
Helen shook her head.
"Only that Margaret said it contained everything Richard had spent seventeen years trying to find.""
I took the key.
Then I noticed something written on the envelope attached to it.
If Eleanor ever comes looking, tell her the truth about the funeral.
My hands began shaking.
"Tell me.""
Helen looked at me.
"Your mother didn't arrange your funeral.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
"Richard did.""
Alexander stood.
"Why?""
Helen's eyes filled with tears.
"Because Margaret wanted you to believe she was dead. She thought it was the only way to keep you safe.""
I felt dizzy.
"Then who did we bury?""
Helen hesitated.
"A woman whose identity was never confirmed.""
I looked at the photograph.
My mother had been alive all this time.
And she had allowed me to grieve her for two years.
I couldn't decide whether to scream or cry.
Then Alexander's phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice came through.
"Mr. Reed, this is Detective Walsh.""
Alexander straightened.
"Yes?""
"We've been asked to contact you regarding an incident at the Sterling mansion.""
"What incident?""
"Your vehicle was involved in a collision with another car.""
Alexander looked at me.
"Yes. Someone tried to run us off the road.""
There was a pause.
Then the detective said:
"That's not the only reason I'm calling.""
"What do you mean?""
"We recovered a body from the vehicle that struck you.""
My stomach dropped.
"Who?""
The detective hesitated.
Then he said:
"Margaret Hayes.""
I grabbed Alexander's arm.
"No!""
He looked at me.
"Detective, that's impossible. We just spoke to her.""
The detective's voice became quieter.
"Mr. Reed, the body has been identified through dental records.""
My legs gave way.
Alexander caught me before I hit the floor.
Then the detective added:
"There's something else. The victim was carrying an identification card with your mother's photograph.""
I began crying.
Helen covered her mouth.
And then Alexander asked the question that made everything worse.
"Detective, if the woman in that car was Margaret Hayes...""
He looked at me.
"Who called us from her phone?""
We spent the next hour at the police station.
Detective Walsh was a broad-shouldered man in his early fifties with tired eyes and a notebook he kept tapping against his desk.
He placed a photograph on the table.
I couldn't look at it.
"Miss Hayes, I understand this is difficult.""
"Did you confirm the identity?""
"We're still conducting additional tests.""
"Then why did you tell us it was my mother?""
"Because the identification card and dental records matched.""
Alexander leaned forward.
"Could the records have been manipulated?""
Walsh looked at him.
"Anything is possible. But we need evidence.""
I pushed the photograph away.
"Where did the accident happen?""
"Near the Sterling estate.""
"Was there another vehicle?""
"An SUV. Abandoned several blocks away.""
"Who owned it?""
Walsh closed his notebook.
"That's what we're investigating.""
I stared at him.
"Did the driver survive?""
"No.""
Silence filled the room.
Alexander rubbed his forehead.
"Do you have security footage?""
"We're reviewing footage from nearby businesses.""
Walsh stood.
"There's one more thing.""
He opened a folder and placed a small plastic evidence bag on the table.
Inside was a silver locket.
My breath caught.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother had worn that locket every day of my childhood.
Walsh watched my face.
"This was found in the vehicle.""
I picked up the bag.
Inside the locket was a tiny photograph of me as a little girl.
But there was something else.
A folded piece of paper.
The detective opened the bag and carefully removed it.
He unfolded the paper.
There were only two sentences.
If Eleanor is reading this, I failed to protect her.
The person who killed Daniel is not Richard Sterling.
I stared at the words.
Alexander looked at me.
Then Detective Walsh turned the paper over.
May you like
A name had been written on the back.
*THOMAS REED.*
