Alison felt something crack inside her.
“My father had an affair with Margaret’s accountant?”
“For almost three years.”
“And you stayed with him?”
“I didn’t know until after Margaret vanished.”
Christopher exhaled.
“This keeps getting worse.”
Detective Harris looked at Catherine.
“What else haven’t you told us?”
Catherine began crying.
Not loudly.
That somehow made it worse.
“I found a letter.”
“When?”
“The morning after Margaret disappeared.”
Harris stepped closer.
“What letter?”
“One she wrote to Samuel.”
“Do you still have it?”
Catherine shook her head.
“I burned it.”
Alison stared at her mother in disbelief.
“You burned evidence?”
“I was protecting my family.”
“From what?”
Catherine finally looked at her daughter.
“From the truth about who your father was.”
Alison’s chest tightened.
“What did the letter say?”
Catherine opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Harris said, “Mrs. Carter.”
“She accused Samuel and Elaine of using her accounts to launder money.”
Nobody spoke.
“She said the apartment was bought partly with stolen funds. Margaret discovered what they were doing and threatened to report them.”
Harris’s face hardened.
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“Samuel convinced me Margaret was unstable.”
“And you believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
Alison turned away.
She could no longer look at her mother.
Outside, evening had begun pressing blue shadows against the basement windows.
A house she had known all her life suddenly felt full of secrets.
Detective Harris collected the old documents and prepared to escort Catherine to the station.
Before leaving, he pointed at Alison.
“Do not go anywhere Gregory expects you to go.”
She nodded.
“And if he contacts you, don’t respond.”
He left with Catherine.
Christopher insisted Alison and Abigail stay at his sister’s vacant condo in Wauwatosa, a place Gregory had never visited.
They drove separately.
Christopher took Abigail.
Alison followed Miriam.
Halfway there, Alison’s phone—powered on only so police could trace incoming communications—buzzed.
A message.
Gregory.
She didn’t open it.
Then another.
And another.
At a red light, she finally looked.
You found the box.
Her throat tightened.
How could he know?
A second message.
Catherine is finally talking. Good.
A third.
Ask the detective why he didn’t tell you about the DNA test.
Alison stared.
She immediately called Harris.
He answered after two rings.
“What DNA test?”
Silence.
“Detective?”
“Where are you?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Alison, where are you?”
“In the car.”
“Pull over somewhere public.”
Her pulse raced.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
She pulled into a brightly lit gas station.
Miriam stopped behind her.
Harris remained on the phone.
“We received preliminary DNA results this afternoon.”
“From the remains?”
“Yes.”
“Is it Margaret?”
Another silence.
“No.”
Alison felt a strange rush of relief.
Then Harris continued.
“The remains are related to Margaret.”
She gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“The DNA indicates a first-degree familial relationship.”
“A parent? A sibling?”
“Or a child.”
Alison thought of Gregory.
His claim that Margaret was his mother.
“Gregory?”
“We’re trying to locate him.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Harris sighed.
“The remains appear to be female.”
Alison stopped breathing.
A female child of Margaret Vale.
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s why we need more testing.”
Alison suddenly remembered something.
Gregory’s recording.
My mother was Margaret Vale.
But he had never said Margaret only had one child.
“Detective…”
A horn sounded behind her somewhere in the parking lot.
Alison looked into her rearview mirror.
A black SUV had pulled in.
Its headlights flashed once.
Her phone buzzed with another message.
Not from Gregory.
Unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
Alison sitting in her car.
Taken seconds earlier.
She spun around.
The black SUV began moving.
“Miriam!” she screamed.
Miriam had already exited her vehicle and was calling 911.
The SUV rolled toward the far exit.
Then stopped.
The passenger window lowered.
A woman was sitting inside.
Dark hair.
Gold necklace.
Leaf-shaped pendant.
Elaine Mercer.
Alison recognized her instantly from the video.
Elaine lifted one finger to her lips.
Then the SUV sped away.
Alison’s phone vibrated again.
A message appeared.
Gregory lied to you about almost everything.
Another followed.
Especially about why he needs the apartment.
Then:
There is something underneath it.
Alison stared at the screen.
Her apartment was on the fourth floor.
There was nothing underneath it except other apartments.
Unless Elaine meant the building.
Or something buried in its history.
A final message arrived.
It contained an image.
An old black-and-white photograph.
Samuel Carter stood outside the apartment building twenty-three years ago.
Beside him was Catherine.
Margaret Vale.
Elaine Mercer.
And a fifth person Alison didn’t recognize.
A young man holding a baby.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written four words:
THE REAL OWNER KNOWS EVERYTHING.
Alison enlarged the image.
The baby was wrapped in a light blanket.
The young man’s face looked strangely familiar.
Not Gregory.
Someone else.
Her phone rang.
Christopher.
She answered immediately.
“Alison, listen to me.”
She could hear Abigail crying in the background.
“What happened?”
“We reached the condo.”
“And?”
“The door was already open.”
Alison’s blood turned cold.
“Get out.”
“We did.”
“Is Gregory there?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Christopher’s voice shook.
“There was a package on the kitchen table.”
“What package?”
“It had Abigail’s name on it.”
Alison shut her eyes.
“What was inside?”
“A birth certificate.”
She frowned.
“Her birth certificate?”
“No.”
Christopher stopped.
When he spoke again, his voice was barely recognizable.
“It’s Gregory’s.”
Alison opened her eyes.
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I.”
“What does it say?”
Another long silence.
Then Christopher whispered:
“Alison… Margaret Vale isn’t listed as Gregory’s mother.”
Alison could hear her own heartbeat.
“Who is?”
Christopher inhaled.
“Your mother.”
The gas station lights seemed to flare white around her.
“No.”
“I’m looking at it.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Catherine Carter is listed as Gregory’s mother.”
Alison’s knees weakened.
Then Christopher said the part that changed everything.
“And Samuel Carter is listed as his father.”
Alison stared at the photograph on her phone.
At her parents.
At Margaret.
At Elaine.
At the unknown young man holding the baby.
Gregory wasn’t her cousin.
According to the document in Christopher’s hands, Gregory was her brother.
Her phone vibrated one final time.
This message came from Gregory.
Only five words.
Now ask Catherine about you.
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
