CHAPTER 13 — THE MAN WHO NEVER DIED
CHAPTER 13 — THE MAN WHO NEVER DIED
The message remained on Richard's phone.
COME TO BLACKWOOD LAKE.
COME ALONE.
BRING THE RECORDING.
Claire stood beside him, trembling.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Richard looked at the final sentence written in Elena's voice.
If Thomas tells you he never took the child, don't believe him.
His father.
The man who had spent fifteen years pretending to be dead.
The man who had claimed he was protecting him.
The man who had supposedly loved Elena.
Could he really have taken the child?
Claire wiped her tears.
“You can't go alone.”
Richard looked at her.
“The message specifically says—”
“I don't care.”
She stepped closer.
“I've spent my entire life being told what I could remember, what I couldn't remember, who I could trust, and who I couldn't.”
Her voice shook.
“I'm not letting anyone make that decision for me again.”
Richard looked at her.
Then nodded.
“We go together.”
They left before dawn.
Jonathan wanted to come.
Daniel insisted.
Isabelle refused to stay behind.
But Richard made them remain at the estate.
“If someone is watching us,” he said, “they need to believe we're alone.”
Jonathan frowned.
“That is exactly what they want.”
“I know.”
“Then why go?”
Richard looked at the lake visible through the trees.
“Because someone took my child.”
He paused.
“And someone knows the truth about my mother.”
Jonathan understood.
“You think the message came from Thomas.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Richard looked at the recorder in his hand.
“The person who made Elena's recording.”
The road to Blackwood Lake was almost empty.
Mist covered the trees.
The sky was gray.
Claire sat beside Richard in silence.
After several minutes, she whispered:
“What if Thomas really did take the baby?”
Richard kept his eyes on the road.
“Then I'll find out why.”
“What if he hurt her?”
“I'll find her.”
“And if he lied about everything?”
Richard glanced at her.
“Then we'll stop trusting him.”
Claire looked out the window.
“I keep remembering pieces.”
“Of what?”
“That night.”
“What do you remember?”
She closed her eyes.
“Rain.”
“Then what?”
“Elena was running.”
“From whom?”
“I don't know.”
“She was carrying something.”
“The baby?”
Claire nodded.
“Then I saw Thomas.”
Richard's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“What was he doing?”
“He was standing beside the lake.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
Claire's breathing became uneven.
“Someone was with him.”
“Who?”
“I can't see the face.”
“Man or woman?”
“A man.”
Richard's heart sank.
“Elias?”
“I don't know.”
“Then what happened?”
Claire shook her head.
“The memory stops there.”
They reached the lake at six-thirty.
The old boathouse stood exactly where it had been fifteen years earlier.
Broken windows.
Rotting wood.
A rusted metal roof.
Richard parked several hundred yards away.
They approached on foot.
Claire held the recorder tightly.
The lake was perfectly still.
Too still.
Richard stopped.
“Someone is here.”
“How do you know?”
He pointed toward the mud.
Footprints.
Fresh.
Several sets.
Claire whispered:
“Maybe we're being watched.”
Richard nodded.
They entered the boathouse.
Nothing.
Only an old wooden chair.
A table.
And a lantern.
Richard looked around.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then the lantern turned on.
Claire jumped.
A voice came from the darkness.
“You brought the recording.”
Richard turned.
A man stepped into the light.
Claire covered her mouth.
Richard couldn't speak.
The man was older.
His hair was almost completely gray.
His face was scarred.
But the eyes were unmistakable.
Thomas.
Richard's father.
Again.
Alive.
Richard stared at him.
“You.”
Thomas smiled sadly.
“I knew you'd come.”
Richard's voice was cold.
“You took my child.”
Thomas didn't deny it.
“Yes.”
Claire gasped.
Richard stepped forward.
“Where is she?”
Thomas looked toward the lake.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere Eleanor can't reach.”
Richard's jaw tightened.
“Give her back.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because she's not the child you think she is.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Thomas looked at Claire.
“She knows.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
Thomas nodded.
“You remember.”
Claire's face tightened.
“I remember you.”
Thomas's expression softened.
“You should.”
“You took the baby.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena asked me to.”
Richard froze.
“You said you didn't.”
Thomas looked at him.
“I lied.”
Richard stared.
“Why?”
“Because if you knew the truth, you would search for the child.”
“I should have.”
“No.”
Thomas's voice became urgent.
“You should never have known.”
“Why?”
“Because the child wasn't meant to live.”
Claire's face went pale.
“What?”
Thomas looked at her.
“Elena gave birth to twins.”
Richard nodded.
“I know.”
“No.”
Thomas shook his head.
“You don't.”
He reached into his coat.
Pulled out a photograph.
Placed it on the table.
Richard looked down.
Two newborn babies.
Elena lying exhausted in a hospital bed.
Thomas standing beside her.
One baby in his arms.
Another beside Elena.
Richard recognized himself.
Then he saw the second child.
The face was unmistakable.
Isabelle.
Claire stared.
“So Isabelle is the twin.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
Richard frowned.
“But Eleanor said—”
“Eleanor lies.”
“Then why did she say Isabelle was my sister?”
“She is.”
“Why did she say the baby taken was another child?”
Thomas looked at him.
“Because she wanted you confused.”
Richard's eyes narrowed.
“Then where is my child?”
Thomas didn't answer.
Claire stepped forward.
“Where is the baby?”
Thomas looked at her.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
Thomas's expression became haunted.
“The baby was never born three months ago.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
Thomas looked at Richard.
“She was born fifteen years ago.”
Richard felt the blood drain from his face.
“No.”
Thomas nodded.
“The child you think is yours…”
He paused.
“…is your sister.”
Claire's knees nearly gave way.
Richard caught her.
“No.”
Thomas continued:
“Eleanor took her fifteen years ago.”
Richard stared.
“Then who was the baby she had?”
“A decoy.”
“Who?”
“Eleanor.”
Richard's mind raced.
“Why?”
“To make you believe your child existed.”
Claire stared at him.
“But I'm pregnant.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
Richard looked at Claire.
“Then the baby—”
“Is real.”
Thomas's voice softened.
“But the child Eleanor took isn't yours.”
Richard felt sick.
“Then why did she call it my child?”
“To make you chase the wrong truth.”
A slow clap came from outside.
Thomas immediately reached for his gun.
“Too late.”
The door opened.
Eleanor entered.
But she wasn't alone.
Sophia stood behind her.
And between them was a small girl.
Eight years old.
Dark hair.
Pale skin.
A crescent-shaped mark on her wrist.
Richard stopped breathing.
“Lily.”
The girl looked at him.
“Brother.”
Claire stared.
“The child from the basement.”
Thomas nodded.
“Your sister.”
Richard moved forward.
Eleanor raised her gun.
“Don't.”
Richard stopped.
“What do you want?”
“The recording.”
Richard held it up.
“Release Lily.”
Eleanor smiled.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
“Lily isn't the prize.”
Richard looked at her.
“Then what is?”
Eleanor pointed toward Claire.
“Her.”
Claire stepped backward.
“Me?”
Sophia looked at Eleanor.
“You promised you wouldn't hurt her.”
Eleanor's eyes hardened.
“Promises are for people who believe they have choices.”
Richard stepped in front of Claire.
“You're not touching her.”
Eleanor laughed.
“You've been saying that for fifteen years.”
Richard froze.
“What?”
Eleanor's smile widened.
“Ask Thomas.”
Richard turned.
Thomas looked away.
“Tell him.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“I was there.”
“Where?”
“When Elena disappeared.”
Richard stared.
“What did you do?”
Thomas whispered:
“I chose.”
“Chose what?”
“Which child lived.”
Richard felt his stomach drop.
Thomas continued.
“Elias wanted both children.”
“Why?”
“Because the twins together could activate the original trust.”
“So you took one.”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
Thomas looked at Lily.
“Her.”
Richard stared.
“Why?”
“Because Elena begged me.”
“And the other?”
Thomas's eyes filled with tears.
“I couldn't save her.”
Claire whispered:
“Who?”
Thomas looked at her.
“You.”
Claire froze.
Richard's heart stopped.
Thomas continued:
“Eleanor took Claire.”
Claire covered her mouth.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You let her take me.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always say that.”
Thomas looked broken.
“I was bleeding.”
Richard frowned.
“What happened?”
“Elias shot me.”
“Then why didn't you die?”
Thomas gave a bitter smile.
“Because I wasn't the man who was supposed to die that night.”
Richard stared.
“Who died?”
Thomas looked toward the lake.
“Your grandfather.”
Richard's face changed.
“The man everyone called Elias.”
“Yes.”
“But Elias is alive.”
“No.”
Thomas shook his head.
“The man you've been calling Elias…”
He paused.
“…isn't Elias.”
Richard felt a chill.
“Then who?”
Thomas looked directly at him.
“Adrian.”
Richard stopped.
“Adrian?”
“Your grandfather.”
Claire stared.
“Then who is Elias?”
Thomas's voice dropped.
“Elias never existed.”
Silence.
Richard shook his head.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does when you understand the original crime.”
Thomas stepped toward him.
“Elias was a name created by the Blackwood family.”
“A fictional heir.”
“A ghost.”
“Every crime was blamed on him.”
“Every disappearance.”
“Every murder.”
“Every stolen fortune.”
“Every child.”
Richard stared.
“So who committed the crimes?”
Thomas looked at Eleanor.
She smiled.
“I did.”
Claire felt the room spin.
“You?”
Eleanor nodded.
“I created Elias.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone needs a monster.”
Richard stared.
“You destroyed your own family.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they destroyed mine first.”
She looked at Thomas.
“Your father murdered my parents.”
Thomas said nothing.
Eleanor continued:
“So I created Elias.”
“I blamed him for everything.”
“And while everyone hunted a dead man…”
She smiled.
“…I built the empire.”
Richard stared.
“You manipulated everyone.”
“Yes.”
“Even me.”
“Especially you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were the only person I couldn't control.”
Richard looked at Claire.
“And Claire?”
Eleanor's smile faded.
“She was the only person who could control you.”
Richard's expression hardened.
“You arranged our marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To produce the final heir.”
Claire's hand moved instinctively toward her stomach.
Eleanor looked at it.
“You have no idea what your child will become.”
Richard stepped forward.
“You'll never touch her.”
Eleanor raised the gun.
“Then prove it.”
She fired.
Thomas pushed Richard aside.
The bullet struck him.
He collapsed.
“Dad!”
Richard caught him.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Claire screamed.
Eleanor grabbed Lily.
Sophia hesitated.
“Come.”
Sophia didn't move.
Eleanor glared.
“Now.”
Sophia looked at Richard.
Then at Thomas.
Then at Lily.
Something changed in her face.
“No.”
Eleanor froze.
“What did you say?”
Sophia stepped forward.
“I said no.”
“You owe me everything.”
“You lied.”
“I saved you.”
“You used me.”
Eleanor raised her weapon.
Sophia moved first.
She knocked the gun from Eleanor's hand.
The weapon skidded across the floor.
Lily ran.
Claire caught her.
Richard helped Thomas.
Eleanor lunged toward Sophia.
The two women crashed into the wall.
Thomas grabbed Richard's arm.
“Go!”
“I'm not leaving you.”
“You have to.”
“Dad—”
Thomas looked at him.
“Your mother was right.”
Richard froze.
“About what?”
Thomas smiled weakly.
“You were always meant to survive.”
Then he pushed Richard toward the door.
“Go.”
Richard pulled Claire and Lily outside.
Behind them, the boathouse erupted in chaos.
Gunshots.
Screaming.
Then silence.
They reached the road.
Jonathan's car appeared.
Daniel was driving.
Richard opened the door.
“Get us out.”
Daniel looked at Thomas.
“Where is he?”
Richard stared back toward the boathouse.
“Inside.”
Daniel stopped.
“What?”
“He took a bullet.”
Daniel immediately turned the car around.
But before they reached the boathouse, flames erupted from the windows.
Claire screamed.
“Thomas!”
Richard tried to open the door.
Daniel grabbed him.
“You can't go in!”
“That's my father!”
“The building is collapsing!”
Richard fought him.
“Let me go!”
Then a figure appeared in the doorway.
Thomas.
Burning.
Barely standing.
He looked toward Richard.
And smiled.
Richard froze.
Thomas raised one hand.
Something was in it.
A small black recorder.
Then the roof collapsed.
Richard screamed.
“No!”
Fire swallowed the building.
Hours later, the fire was extinguished.
No body was found.
No weapon.
No Eleanor.
No Sophia.
No trace of Thomas.
Only the recorder survived.
Richard sat in the hospital corridor holding it.
Claire sat beside him.
Lily slept against her shoulder.
Daniel stood across the hall.
Jonathan remained silent.
Richard pressed play.
Thomas's voice emerged.
“If you're hearing this…”
Richard closed his eyes.
“…then I probably didn't make it.”
Claire began crying.
Thomas continued:
“There is one final truth.”
Richard listened.
“The man who raised you was not your father.”
Richard opened his eyes.
Daniel froze.
Thomas continued:
“Daniel was your uncle.”
Richard stared at Daniel.
“And the man you thought was your grandfather…”
A pause.
“…was your biological father.”
Richard's blood ran cold.
Daniel's face went white.
Claire whispered:
“Then Thomas…”
Thomas's recording continued.
“I am not your father, Richard.”
Silence.
Richard stared at the recorder.
“I am your brother.”
The hallway seemed to disappear.
Claire covered her mouth.
Richard couldn't breathe.
Thomas continued:
“Our mother was Elena.”
“Our father was Adrian.”
“We were separated when we were children.”
“That's why I protected you.”
“That's why I lied.”
“And that's why I could never tell you the truth.”
The recording crackled.
Then Thomas said:
“There is one final thing.”
Richard leaned closer.
“The man who never died…”
A pause.
“…was never Elias.”
The recorder stopped.
Richard looked toward Daniel.
“Then who is Elias?”
Daniel's face was ashen.
He whispered:
“I don't know.”
But from the end of the hallway came a soft female laugh.
Richard turned.
Eleanor stood there.
Alive.
Uninjured.
Holding a photograph.
She lifted it.
Richard stared.
It showed a little boy.
A young Thomas.
And beside him…
Richard's mother.
But the child standing between them wasn't Richard.
It was Daniel.
Eleanor smiled.
“Now you understand.”
Richard stared at the photograph.
Daniel backed away.
“What did you do?”
Eleanor looked at him.
“What I always do.”
She smiled.
“I tell the truth only when it hurts the most.”
Then she turned toward the hospital exit.
Richard chased her.
“Eleanor!”
She stopped.
Without turning, she said:
“You're still asking who Elias was.”
Richard froze.
She slowly looked over her shoulder.
“You should be asking…”
Her smile returned.
“…who is pretending to be him now.”
Then she disappeared into the night.
Richard stood motionless.
Behind him, Claire whispered:
“Richard.”
He turned.
She was holding Lily.
The little girl was awake.
And she was staring at the photograph.
Her face suddenly became terrified.
“That's him.”
Richard looked at her.
“Who?”
Lily pointed toward the photograph.
“The man who took me.”
Richard's heart stopped.
“Who is he?”
Lily looked toward the hospital doors.
Then whispered:
“Your real father.”
May you like
The hallway fell silent.
And somewhere outside, a black car disappeared into the rain.
