Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPHWe found my mother alive six hours later.
Not physically.
Through a recording.
An old cassette was hidden beneath the floorboards.
My father had never listened to it.
Neither had Whitaker.
I inserted the tape.
Static filled the room.
Then a woman's voice.
My mother's voice.
I hadn't heard it since I was a little girl.
“Claire.”
I covered my mouth.
The recording continued.
“If you're hearing this, then you're old enough to understand.”
I cried silently.
“I want you to know something.”
A pause.
“I never abandoned you.”
My knees weakened.
“I left because people wanted to use you against me.”
She explained everything.
Carter had infiltrated the intelligence division.
He had sold information to Black Harbor.
My mother discovered it.
But Carter wasn't working alone.
There were people inside government agencies.
Defense contractors.
Political offices.
Even the military.
She created Project Nightfall to expose them.
Then Carter discovered she had a daughter.
Me.
He wanted leverage.
My mother disappeared.
My father staged her death.
But the plan went wrong.
She had been forced into hiding.
For thirty-six years.
At the end of the recording, she said:
“One day, Claire, you will wear the uniform I wore.”
Her voice broke.
“And when you do, don't let anyone convince you that you are too much.”
I cried.
“You are not too ambitious.”
“You are not too difficult.”
“You are not too strong.”
“You are my daughter.”
The tape ended.
Then another voice came through the recording.
A man's voice.
Carter.
“Eleanor, you should have known better.”
My mother's voice answered:
“James, you will never touch my daughter.”
Carter laughed.
“We already have.”
The tape stopped.
I stared at the machine.
“What does that mean?”
Whitaker looked terrified.
“I don't know.”
My father suddenly grabbed the edge of the table.
“Claire…”
“What?”
“I think I do.”
Everyone looked at him.
“When you were six.”
I waited.
“There was an accident.”
“What accident?”
“You were supposed to die.”
My blood froze.
“What?”
“Carter arranged it.”
My father explained that a car carrying me and Melanie had been deliberately forced off a rural road.
Melanie was unharmed.
I had suffered a concussion.
The case was dismissed as an accident.
But it wasn't.
Carter had been testing whether he could reach me.
He failed.
Then my father made the decision that changed everything.
He sent me to the Naval Academy.
Far away.
Protected.
Under a different identity in certain classified systems.
He made himself appear cold.
He made Melanie appear favored.
He made our family look broken.
All so Carter would believe I was irrelevant.
But there was one flaw.
Carter had never stopped watching.
My phone buzzed.
A text message.
Unknown number.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE WEDDING.
Then another.
NOW YOUR SISTER WILL PAY.
I looked at Melanie.
Her phone rang.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Her face changed.
“What?”
She dropped the phone.
“What happened?”
May you like
She whispered:
“Ethan is missing.”
