CHAPTER 9 — The Night Her Mother Died
CHAPTER 9 — The Night Her Mother Died
The rain had stopped by the time Charlotte left the hidden room.
But the night felt colder than before.
She stood beneath the old Vale residence, staring at the black screen where her father's face had appeared only minutes earlier.
Alive.
Bruised.
Terrified.
And still trying to warn her.
Her mother's death had always been described as an accident.
A sudden loss of control on a wet road.
A terrible night.
A tragic ending.
Charlotte had believed it.
For years.
Now she couldn't.
She turned toward Marcus.
"Take me to the accident site."
Marcus studied her.
"Tonight?"
"Tonight."
"We need to deal with Cross first."
"No."
Charlotte's voice was quiet.
"Before I confront Cross, I need to know what happened to my mother."
Marcus understood.
"Because if it wasn't an accident—"
"Then someone killed her."
The accident report was waiting in the old police archive.
Marcus had obtained emergency access through the investigators.
Charlotte stood beneath fluorescent lights while the file was placed on the table.
VICTORIA VALE — FATAL VEHICLE COLLISION
Date:
Four years earlier.
Time:
11:42 p.m.
Location:
North Ridge Highway.
Cause:
Loss of control on wet pavement.
Charlotte stared at the page.
"That's it?"
Marcus nodded.
"Officially."
"Who investigated it?"
"Detective Samuel Price."
Charlotte frowned.
"Is he still with the department?"
"No."
"Where is he?"
Marcus looked at the file.
"Retired."
"Why?"
"He left six months after your mother's death."
Charlotte looked at him.
"Find him."
Marcus picked up his phone.
Within minutes, he had an address.
Charlotte closed the file.
"Let's go."
Samuel Price lived alone in a small house outside the city.
He opened the door after the third knock.
He was older than Charlotte expected.
Gray hair.
Heavy eyes.
A limp.
The moment he saw her, his expression changed.
"Victoria's daughter."
Charlotte nodded.
"You remember me."
"I remember your mother."
"Then you remember what happened."
Samuel looked away.
"Some things are better forgotten."
Charlotte stepped closer.
"I've forgotten enough."
He stared at her.
"Come inside."
The house smelled like old paper and coffee.
Samuel led them into a study.
He locked the door behind them.
Marcus noticed.
"Why lock it?"
Samuel didn't answer.
Instead, he opened a drawer and removed a brown envelope.
He placed it on the table.
"I kept this because I knew someday you would come."
Charlotte stared.
"What's inside?"
"The photographs they didn't want you to see."
Her hands trembled.
"Who didn't?"
Samuel looked at her.
"The people who told me what to write."
Charlotte's stomach tightened.
"You were ordered to call it an accident."
Samuel nodded.
"By whom?"
He hesitated.
Then:
"Daniel Cross."
Marcus stepped forward.
"Cross wasn't law enforcement."
"No."
"Then how could he control the investigation?"
Samuel laughed bitterly.
"Money."
He opened the envelope.
Photographs spilled across the table.
Charlotte picked up the first.
Her mother's car.
The driver's side.
The road.
The guardrail.
Then she saw something.
"Why is the front tire damaged?"
Samuel looked at her.
"That's what I asked."
Charlotte examined the photograph.
"The accident report says she lost control."
"Yes."
"But the tire was punctured before impact."
Samuel nodded.
"Exactly."
Marcus looked at him.
"What punctured it?"
"We don't know."
"Why?"
"Because the tire was replaced before forensic examination."
Charlotte froze.
"By whom?"
Samuel stared at her.
"Someone with access to the impound lot."
"Who?"
Samuel reached for another photograph.
A man stood beside the wreck.
Charlotte recognized him.
Daniel Cross.
She whispered:
"He was there."
Samuel nodded.
"Within twenty minutes."
Charlotte looked at the timestamp.
11:59 p.m.
Her mother had died at 11:42.
"Why was Cross there?"
Samuel shook his head.
"He claimed he had been called by the hospital."
"But he wasn't family."
"No."
Charlotte stared at the photograph.
"What else?"
Samuel opened another envelope.
"There was a second vehicle."
Charlotte looked up.
"What?"
"A black SUV."
"Where?"
"Two hundred yards behind your mother's car."
"Why wasn't it in the report?"
"Because I was told to remove it."
"Who told you?"
Samuel looked at her.
"Cross."
Charlotte's heart pounded.
"Did you identify the vehicle?"
"Yes."
"Whose was it?"
Samuel hesitated.
"Solmere Holdings."
Charlotte froze.
"Company vehicle?"
"No."
"Then?"
"Private vehicle."
"Registered to whom?"
Samuel pushed another document across the table.
Charlotte looked down.
The registration number.
Then the name.
VICTOR LANG.
Silence.
Marcus stared.
"Victor."
Charlotte's face hardened.
"Was he there?"
Samuel nodded.
"I saw him."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was warned."
"By Cross?"
"By someone worse."
Charlotte's eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
Samuel looked toward the window.
"Your grandfather."
Charlotte went still.
"Arthur."
Samuel nodded.
"He came to the scene himself."
Charlotte's voice broke.
"Why?"
"To make sure your mother was dead."
For a moment, Charlotte couldn't breathe.
Marcus stepped toward her.
"Charlotte."
She shook her head.
"No."
She looked at Samuel.
"You're saying my grandfather went to the accident."
"Yes."
"Before the ambulance arrived?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he knew the accident would happen."
Charlotte closed her eyes.
Her mother's face appeared in her memory.
The last time she had seen Victoria.
They had argued.
Charlotte had been eighteen.
She had been angry because her mother refused to explain why her father was never discussed.
Victoria had hugged her.
Charlotte had pulled away.
Then she had left.
That had been the last time they spoke.
She had spent years regretting it.
Now she wondered whether her mother had known she was going to die.
Samuel handed her another photograph.
"This was taken six hours before the crash."
Charlotte stared.
Her mother stood outside Solmere.
She was speaking to someone.
A man.
Charlotte zoomed in.
Her father's face.
Alive.
"That's impossible."
Samuel nodded.
"It was taken the same day."
Charlotte looked at the timestamp.
5:14 p.m.
"Then my father was with my mother hours before she died."
"Yes."
"Did he survive?"
"I don't know."
"Where did he go?"
"Cross took him."
Charlotte looked up.
"What?"
"After the crash."
Marcus stepped forward.
"You're certain?"
"I saw it."
"You saw Cross take Adrian Vale?"
Samuel nodded.
"He was injured."
"How badly?"
"Bad enough that he couldn't walk."
Charlotte's hands began shaking.
"He was at the scene."
"Yes."
"Why was that never reported?"
Samuel looked ashamed.
"Because I was told there had been no other survivor."
Charlotte stared at him.
"And you believed them?"
"I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice."
Samuel lowered his eyes.
"I know."
Charlotte stood.
"Take me to the crash site."
Samuel looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because something was left behind."
North Ridge Highway looked different at night.
Charlotte stood beside the guardrail.
Cars passed in the distance.
The road was quiet.
Too quiet.
Samuel pointed.
"The crash happened here."
Charlotte walked toward the edge.
She closed her eyes.
She tried to imagine her mother driving.
Rain.
Darkness.
Headlights behind her.
Then—
something clicked.
Not memory.
Instinct.
She opened her eyes.
"Marcus."
He approached.
"Look."
Embedded in the guardrail was a small piece of metal.
Marcus pulled it free.
"What is it?"
Samuel examined it.
"Not from the car."
Charlotte stared.
"Then what?"
Marcus wiped away dirt.
A manufacturer's mark appeared.
"Motorcycle component."
Samuel shook his head.
"No."
He pointed toward the road.
"There were no motorcycles reported that night."
Charlotte looked at the guardrail.
"Maybe that's why."
"What?"
"Because someone wasn't following her in a car."
Marcus understood.
"They approached from the side."
Charlotte nodded.
"A motorcycle could have pulled alongside."
Samuel looked horrified.
"You're suggesting someone forced her off the road."
Charlotte stared at the highway.
"No."
She picked up the metal fragment.
"I'm saying someone wanted us to believe she lost control."
A flash of lightning illuminated the road.
Charlotte saw something near the guardrail.
A small metal plate.
She knelt.
Pulled it from the mud.
There was an engraved symbol.
A black crescent.
Her mother's symbol.
Marcus stared.
"That was planted."
Charlotte shook her head.
"No."
She turned it over.
A number was engraved on the back.
M-17.
Her blood froze.
"The same file."
Marcus looked at her.
"This wasn't just an accident."
Charlotte stared at the symbol.
"It was a message."
They returned to Samuel's house.
He opened one final box.
"I kept this hidden."
Inside was a small digital recorder.
Charlotte pressed play.
Static.
Then her mother's voice.
Weak.
Breathing heavily.
Charlotte covered her mouth.
Victoria spoke:
"If something happens to me, don't trust the accident report."
Charlotte's eyes filled with tears.
"I know someone is following me."
A pause.
"I found the account."
Charlotte's heart pounded.
"The account beneath Solmere."
Marcus looked at her.
Victoria continued:
"Daniel Cross knows."
Static.
"He thinks I'm going to give him the original will."
Another pause.
"But I'm not."
Charlotte whispered:
"Mom."
The recording continued.
"I've hidden the evidence."
Then a sound.
A door opening.
Victoria suddenly became frightened.
"If you're hearing this, Charlotte, then I didn't survive."
Charlotte closed her eyes.
Her mother continued:
"Please forgive me."
A man's voice appeared in the background.
"Victoria."
Charlotte froze.
She knew that voice.
Arthur.
Her grandfather.
Victoria spoke:
"You shouldn't have come."
Arthur answered:
"You knew this was coming."
"I knew you would try."
"You cannot stop me."
"I'm not trying to stop you."
"Then what are you doing?"
"I'm protecting my daughter."
Arthur laughed.
"From me?"
"No."
Victoria's voice trembled.
"From everyone."
The recording crackled.
Then Arthur said something that made Charlotte's blood run cold.
"Your daughter is not the heir."
Victoria replied:
"She is."
"She doesn't even know what she is."
"I know exactly what she is."
Silence.
Then Arthur whispered:
"She's the last witness."
The recording ended.
Charlotte stared at the recorder.
"What does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
Marcus looked at Samuel.
"Do you know?"
Samuel shook his head.
"No."
Charlotte stood.
"The last witness to what?"
Samuel looked at her.
"Maybe your father knows."
Charlotte's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
Her father's.
"Charlotte."
Her breath stopped.
"Dad."
"I'm sorry."
"Where are you?"
"I don't have much time."
"Tell me what happened to Mom."
Silence.
Then:
"Your mother wasn't killed because of Solmere."
Charlotte's eyes widened.
"Then why?"
"Because she discovered who Charlotte Vale really was."
Charlotte froze.
"What does that mean?"
Her father's breathing became uneven.
"Your mother wasn't trying to protect the company."
"She was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
A pause.
"From your blood."
Charlotte's face went pale.
"What about my blood?"
Her father whispered:
"You're not the only heir."
The call ended.
Charlotte stared at the phone.
Marcus stepped closer.
"What did he say?"
Charlotte slowly looked up.
"My mother wasn't killed because she tried to save Solmere."
She swallowed.
"She was killed because she discovered something about me."
Across the city, inside a dark office, a man watched Charlotte's location appear on a monitor.
Daniel Cross sat alone.
A photograph of Victoria lay before him.
Beside it was another photograph.
Charlotte as a child.
Cross touched the second photograph.
"You finally found the road."
He smiled.
"Good."
A woman standing behind him asked:
"Should we move her?"
Cross shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because she's finally asking the right questions."
He looked at the photograph of Victoria.
"And once she learns why her mother really died..."
He paused.
"...she'll come looking for us."
The woman hesitated.
"And then?"
Cross smiled.
"Then we give her the truth."
He opened a drawer.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Charlotte's name had been crossed out.
Beneath it was another name.
A name she had never seen.
Cross whispered:
May you like
"Let's see if she survives learning who she really is."
TO BE CONTINUED.
