Chapter 7 — The Husband Who Was Looking for Me
Chapter 7 — The Husband Who Was Looking for Me
I did not sleep that night.
I sat in the passenger seat of a borrowed sedan while rain slid down the windshield, watching the city blur into streaks of gray and gold.
The address my father had given me was twenty-three miles away.
An old Vale hotel.
A place I had visited once before my wedding.
A place where I had met Derek for the first time.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Now I wasn't sure I had ever met him for the first time.
Derek drove in silence.
His hands were steady on the steering wheel.
His face was pale.
I looked at him.
"You knew."
He didn't ask what I meant.
"Yes."
"You knew Emily was at the hotel."
"I suspected."
"You knew Thomas was alive."
"No."
"My father just told us."
"I know."
I turned toward the window.
"Do you understand how impossible your family has made it to trust anyone?"
He didn't answer.
After a few minutes, I asked:
"When did you first see me?"
Derek's hands tightened around the wheel.
"Eight years ago."
I turned toward him.
"Before we met."
"Yes."
"Where?"
"At a charity event."
I frowned.
"I don't remember you."
"You weren't supposed to."
"What does that mean?"
"You were twenty."
"I was twenty."
"You were standing beside your father."
I stared at him.
"My father was already dead."
Derek looked at me.
"That's what everyone believed."
I felt my stomach twist.
"You were there."
"Yes."
"Watching me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
"Because your father asked me to."
I laughed bitterly.
"Again."
"What?"
"That sentence."
He looked confused.
"You keep saying my father asked you."
"He did."
"Then why does every story about my father somehow end with you?"
Derek didn't answer.
I watched his reflection in the window.
For the first time, I wondered whether I had ever been the one choosing him.
Maybe he had been choosing me for years.
The hotel appeared through the rain.
The Vale Grand.
Thirty-two floors of glass and stone.
One of the most profitable properties in Derek's family's portfolio.
I stared at it.
"Emily works here?"
"She did."
"Did?"
"She resigned yesterday."
My stomach dropped.
"Yesterday?"
He nodded.
"After the wedding."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"No."
"Then why did she resign immediately after seeing me?"
Derek didn't answer.
I already knew.
She had recognized me.
She had been waiting for me.
We parked beneath the hotel.
I turned toward Derek.
"You stay here."
"No."
"You said you'd respect my decisions."
"I said I'd try."
"That's not good enough."
He sighed.
"Chloe, if Emily is involved with my family—"
"She's my sister."
"I know."
"You don't get to decide how I meet her."
"I don't want to."
"Then stay here."
He nodded.
"Fine."
I opened the door.
"Chloe."
I looked back.
"If something feels wrong, leave."
I smiled faintly.
"Everything feels wrong."
Then I stepped into the rain.
The lobby was almost empty.
A security guard looked up.
"Mrs. Vale?"
I froze.
I had forgotten I was already known by the family name.
"Yes."
"Someone is waiting for you."
My heart skipped.
"Who?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"She said you'd ask."
"Who?"
"Emily."
I stared at him.
"Where?"
"Twenty-third floor."
"Did she say anything else?"
The guard shook his head.
"Only that you were not to bring Mr. Vale."
I looked toward the elevators.
Derek was still sitting in the car.
I pressed the button.
The twenty-third floor was dark.
Most of the rooms were empty because the hotel was undergoing renovations.
I walked down the hallway.
Room 2317.
The door was open.
I pushed it.
"Emily?"
No answer.
I entered.
A single lamp was on.
On the table was a photograph.
Me.
At twenty.
Standing beside my father.
The same photograph I had seen in the file.
I picked it up.
On the back:
You don't remember me.
I turned.
A woman stood near the window.
Emily.
My sister.
She looked exactly like the woman from the photograph.
Green eyes.
Dark hair.
The scar above her eyebrow.
She stared at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered:
"Chloe."
My heart broke.
"You know me."
She nodded.
"I've always known you."
I took a step forward.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked away.
"Because I wasn't allowed."
"By Brenda?"
Emily shook her head.
"By your father."
I froze.
"What?"
"He told me never to approach you."
"Why?"
"Because if Brenda knew I had found you, she would have killed you."
I stared.
"How long have you known where I was?"
"Eight years."
Eight years.
The same amount of time Derek had supposedly known about me.
I felt sick.
"Did Derek know?"
Emily looked at me.
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Everyone knew.
Everyone except me.
"Why was he looking for me?"
Emily sat down.
"Because your father asked him to."
"That's what he says."
"It's true."
"Then why did he marry me?"
Emily hesitated.
"That wasn't the plan."
"What was?"
"He was supposed to keep you safe."
I laughed.
"He locked me in a room on our wedding night."
Emily's expression hardened.
"I know."
"He humiliated me."
"I know."
"He lied to me."
"I know."
"Then how can you defend him?"
"I'm not."
She looked directly at me.
"I'm explaining why he changed."
"When?"
"The first time he saw you."
I stared.
"You mean eight years ago."
"Yes."
"What happened?"
Emily took a breath.
"Derek was twenty-four."
She looked toward the window.
"Your father showed him a photograph of you."
"Why?"
"Because he wanted Derek to know who he was protecting."
"And?"
"He asked Derek to stay away from you."
I frowned.
"Then why didn't he?"
Emily smiled sadly.
"Because Derek couldn't."
I didn't like the direction of this conversation.
"What happened?"
"He started following your life."
"Following?"
"Your university."
"My work."
"My friends."
"My relationships."
I felt violated.
"How much?"
"Everything."
"Why?"
"At first because your father told him to."
"And later?"
Emily looked at me.
"Because he fell in love with you."
I shook my head.
"That's not romantic."
"I know."
"It was obsession."
"I know."
"Then why did you help him?"
Emily looked ashamed.
"Because I thought he was the only person who could protect you."
I laughed.
"From what?"
She whispered:
"From my father."
I froze.
"Thomas."
She nodded.
"Thomas wanted you dead."
"Why?"
"Because your father hid the archive inside you."
I frowned.
"Again with the archive."
Emily stood.
"It's not a box."
"What?"
"The archive."
She walked toward me.
"It's not documents."
"Then what is it?"
"Evidence."
"Where?"
She pointed to my head.
"In your memory."
I felt a chill.
"How?"
"Your father used something called mnemonic encoding."
She explained that he had divided critical information into memories from my childhood.
A song.
A photograph.
A phrase.
A birthday.
A childhood game.
Individually, they meant nothing.
Together, they formed the location and access sequence to the hidden archive.
I stared.
"How would I know which memories matter?"
"You wouldn't."
"Then how can I open it?"
"Someone has to guide you."
"Who?"
Emily's eyes filled with tears.
"You."
I frowned.
"What?"
"You already know the information."
"You mean I know the memories."
"Yes."
"Then why don't I remember the archive?"
"Because you were trained not to."
"By my father?"
She nodded.
"He made you memorize everything without telling you what it meant."
I thought about my childhood.
The strange games.
The songs Dad had made me repeat.
The stories he told me before bed.
The numbers he made me memorize.
I had always thought he was simply eccentric.
Now I understood.
He had been building a vault inside my mind.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
Emily looked down.
"Because I was afraid."
"Of Brenda?"
"Of everyone."
"Even Dad?"
She hesitated.
"Especially him."
I stared.
"Why?"
"Because your father wasn't always the man you remember."
My stomach tightened.
"What did he do?"
Emily's voice became quiet.
"He made a deal with Thomas."
"What deal?"
"Your safety."
I remembered my father's words.
A deal involving my life.
"What did he give Thomas?"
"Me."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Your father promised Thomas that I would never testify."
"Why?"
"Because I had witnessed the murder."
I stared.
"The man your father killed."
Emily shook her head.
"Not my father."
"Then who?"
She looked at me.
"Thomas killed him."
I froze.
"Your father blamed himself because he helped cover it up."
"Why?"
"To protect me."
I felt dizzy.
"So Dad wasn't innocent."
"No."
"But he wasn't the murderer."
"No."
"Then why did he disappear?"
"Because he knew the truth would destroy everyone."
The hotel door suddenly slammed shut.
I turned.
Locked.
Emily's expression changed.
"He's here."
"Who?"
She whispered:
"Derek."
I stared at her.
"He followed me."
"No."
She shook her head.
"Someone followed him."
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Emily grabbed my hand.
"There's another exit."
We ran toward the bathroom.
"Who is it?"
"Thomas."
I stopped.
"What?"
"He found us."
The door handle moved.
Emily pulled me toward a hidden panel.
"Quick."
The door opened.
A man entered.
Older.
Tall.
Silver hair.
I saw his face.
I knew him.
Not from photographs.
From the wedding.
He had stood beside Brenda.
He had congratulated Derek.
I had been introduced to him as an old family friend.
But he wasn't a family friend.
He was Derek's father.
Thomas Vale.
Alive.
He looked around the room.
Then smiled.
"Emily."
She froze.
"Come home."
Emily stepped in front of me.
"No."
Thomas's eyes moved to me.
Then his smile widened.
"And you must be Chloe."
I couldn't breathe.
He looked at me as though he had been waiting years.
"You look exactly like your mother."
I felt sick.
"Stay away from me."
He laughed.
"I've been looking for you for eleven years."
I stared.
"Why?"
"Because your father stole something from me."
"The archive?"
He smiled.
"No."
"Then what?"
He pointed at me.
"You."
I froze.
"Me?"
"Your father didn't hide the archive inside your memories."
Thomas took another step.
"He hid it inside your blood."
I didn't understand.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
"Your father isn't your biological father."
Silence.
Emily looked at me.
Her face was devastated.
Thomas smiled.
"Ask your mother."
My heart stopped.
Then the lights went out.
A gunshot exploded.
Emily shoved me to the floor.
Glass shattered.
Someone screamed.
And through the darkness, I heard Derek's voice from the hallway.
"Chloe!"
I reached for him.
But another voice whispered directly beside my ear.
A voice I recognized.
May you like
Brenda.
"Now you finally know why I was afraid of you."
