CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 10
THE LAST ROOM
“Dad.”
Victor turned so slowly that for a moment I thought he had forgotten how to move.
The man standing behind us was tall.
Older than the photographs.
Older than the boy in the files.
His hair was dark, but there were streaks of gray at the temples. A thin scar crossed his cheek. His eyes were fixed on Victor with an expression I couldn't read.
Victor stared at him.
“Evan?”
The man nodded.
“Yes.”
Victor's lips trembled.
“You're alive.”
“I never died.”
“Then whose body—”
“Elias.”
Victor's face tightened.
“The man we met downstairs?”
Evan looked toward the corridor.
“He isn't Elias.”
“Who is he?”
“Someone my father created.”
Victor stepped toward him.
“My father?”
Evan's expression hardened.
“Not Augustus.”
Victor stopped.
“Then Adrian.”
Evan nodded.
“Dr. Adrian Black.”
I felt a chill.
“You're saying Dr. Black had another son?”
“No.”
Evan looked directly at Victor.
“I'm saying he had another identity.”
Victor stared.
“What does that mean?”
Evan reached into his coat and removed a folded document.
He handed it to Victor.
Victor opened it.
His face changed immediately.
“What is this?”
“Your father's original birth record.”
Victor looked at the paper.
The name at the top was:
VICTOR ADRIAN BLACK.
His mother's name:
ELEANOR BLACKWOOD.
His father's name:
ADRIAN BLACK.
Victor stared at it.
“Then Augustus…”
“Stole you.”
The words landed harder than any accusation.
Victor's entire life had been built around the Blackwood name.
And now the document said he had never been born a Blackwood at all.
Evan continued:
“Augustus changed your birth record when you were three months old.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian threatened to expose him.”
Victor's voice became bitter.
“And he couldn't let that happen.”
“No.”
“So he took me.”
“Yes.”
“And raised me as his son.”
“Yes.”
Victor laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“My entire life was a lie.”
Evan shook his head.
“No.”
Victor looked at him.
“Your entire life was the evidence.”
A soft sound came from the underground corridor.
The little boy we had found was gone.
The room was empty.
The woman who claimed to be Victor's mother had disappeared too.
Only the knife remained on the floor.
Victor stared at it.
“Where did the boy go?”
Evan's expression changed.
“He wasn't a boy.”
“What?”
“He was an adult.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“He looked six.”
“He was wearing a prosthetic frame.”
Victor frowned.
“What?”
“A device designed to change his height and posture.”
Evan crouched and picked up the knife.
“He wanted you to believe he was a child.”
“Why?”
“To get close enough.”
“To kill me?”
Evan nodded.
Victor stared at the blood on his shirt where the blade had grazed him.
“Who sent him?”
Evan looked toward the last corridor.
“Someone who knows we're almost there.”
“Almost where?”
Evan didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward a section of wall.
There was no door.
No handle.
Nothing.
He pressed his palm against the stone.
A faint light appeared.
The wall opened.
Behind it was another passage.
Longer.
Older.
At the end was a metal door.
Unlike every other door in the underground house, this one had no number.
Only a name.
ELEANOR.
Victor stopped.
His breathing changed.
“What is this?”
Evan whispered:
“The last room.”
We walked through the passage.
The air smelled different.
Not damp.
Not dusty.
It smelled like perfume.
A faint floral scent.
The same perfume Eleanor had worn in every photograph.
Victor noticed it too.
“She was here.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Twenty-three years ago.”
“You were there?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
Evan looked at him.
“Because she left a message.”
He touched the door.
“This room has never been opened since the night she died.”
Victor stared.
“You're lying.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has been living here.”
Evan looked at the floor.
Fresh footprints crossed the dust.
Victor saw them.
“So someone opened it.”
“Yes.”
“Recently.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Evan whispered:
“Your mother.”
Victor's face hardened.
“My mother died.”
“She died.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it matters.”
Evan looked at him.
“Dead people don't always stay dead in this family.”
Victor reached for the handle.
Evan stopped him.
“Before you open it, understand something.”
“What?”
“Whatever you find inside will change what you believe about Eleanor.”
Victor's hand remained on the handle.
“I've already learned my wife was murdered.”
“That's not the worst part.”
“What could be worse?”
Evan looked at me.
“She knew she was going to die.”
Victor froze.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“And she didn't run?”
“She tried.”
“Then why did she stay?”
Evan looked at the door.
“Because she was protecting you.”
Victor's eyes filled with anger.
“From whom?”
“From yourself.”
Victor stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Evan didn't answer.
Victor opened the door.
The room was perfectly preserved.
A bed.
A writing desk.
A wardrobe.
A vanity.
Photographs.
Books.
A vase of dried flowers.
It looked as though Eleanor had simply stepped out and expected to return.
Victor walked inside.
He touched the bed.
“She slept here.”
Evan shook his head.
“No.”
Victor looked at him.
“She was kept here.”
I noticed the iron lock on the outside of the door.
My stomach twisted.
“She was a prisoner.”
“Yes.”
Victor walked toward the desk.
There were dozens of letters.
All addressed to him.
He picked up the first.
My dear Victor.
His hands began trembling.
He opened it.
If you are reading this, then Augustus is dead and you finally know enough to hate him.
Victor stopped.
His eyes moved down the page.
But please do not hate me.
He looked at Evan.
“Why would she say that?”
“Keep reading.”
Victor did.
I never abandoned you.
I never chose Adrian over you.
And I never stopped loving you.
Victor closed his eyes.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
He whispered:
“Why didn't she tell me?”
Evan answered quietly.
“Because Augustus threatened Ethan.”
Victor looked up.
“What?”
“Your father knew Eleanor would sacrifice herself for her children.”
Victor read the next paragraph.
He told me that if I spoke, Ethan would disappear.
He told me that if I tried to leave, Clara would disappear.
He told me that if I told Victor the truth, he would make Victor believe I had betrayed him.
Victor's breathing became uneven.
“He destroyed everything.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evan looked at the wall.
“Because Augustus believed love was weakness.”
Victor folded the letter.
“Where is Clara?”
Evan looked away.
“Alive.”
Victor stared.
“You said she was dead.”
“I said that because someone wanted you to believe it.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
Evan didn't answer.
Victor stepped toward him.
“You owe me the truth.”
Evan looked at him.
“So do you.”
Victor stopped.
“What does that mean?”
Evan pointed toward the desk.
“Open the second drawer.”
Victor did.
Inside was a small cassette recorder.
An old one.
Beside it was a note.
PLAY THIS ONLY WHEN VICTOR KNOWS ABOUT THE LAST ROOM.
Victor stared.
“She knew we'd find it.”
“Yes.”
He pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then Eleanor's voice.
Older.
Tired.
Terrified.
“Victor…”
He froze.
“I'm sorry.”
The recording continued.
“If you are hearing this, then I am already gone.”
Victor's face crumpled.
Eleanor continued:
“There are things about your birth that you were never told.”
Victor whispered:
“I know.”
On the recording, Eleanor took a shaky breath.
“Augustus is not your father.”
Victor closed his eyes.
“Adrian is.”
“I know.”
“You were taken from me.”
“I know.”
“I tried to get you back.”
Victor gripped the recorder.
“I know.”
“I failed.”
The recording paused.
Then Eleanor said something that made everyone in the room freeze.
“But Victor, Adrian is not your father either.”
Victor opened his eyes.
“What?”
Evan stared at the recorder.
The voice continued.
“Your biological father is someone else.”
Victor stopped breathing.
Evan whispered:
“No.”
The recording continued.
“I didn't tell you because I was afraid of what you would become if you learned the truth.”
Victor looked at Evan.
“Who?”
Eleanor answered.
“The man Augustus feared most.”
Victor's face went pale.
“Who?”
There was a long pause.
Then:
“Thomas Vale.”
Evan staggered backward.
“No.”
Victor stared at him.
“Thomas Vale.”
The name from the files.
The attorney.
The man who had raised Evan.
The man connected to the hospital records.
The man who had supposedly died years ago.
Victor looked at Evan.
“Thomas Vale is your father?”
Evan nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“But Eleanor said he's mine.”
Evan looked terrified.
“Then…”
Victor finished the thought.
“You and I are brothers.”
Silence.
The recording continued.
“And that is why Augustus separated you.”
Victor looked toward Evan.
Eleanor's voice became weaker.
“I had two sons.”
Victor's eyes widened.
“One was Victor.”
The room seemed to stop breathing.
“The other was Evan.”
Victor stared at the man standing across from him.
Evan whispered:
“I told you.”
The recording continued.
“Evan was born first.”
Victor froze.
“First?”
“Yes.”
“Then Ethan…”
“He was born later.”
Victor's expression changed.
“And Clara?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“Clara was not my daughter.”
Victor stared.
Evan closed his eyes.
“Serena…”
“Yes.”
“Serena's daughter?”
“No.”
Victor looked confused.
The recording continued.
“Clara was Adrian Black's daughter.”
Victor's face went white.
“She was never Serena's.”
Evan whispered:
“Then who was her mother?”
Eleanor answered:
“Your father's first wife.”
Victor's head snapped up.
“My father was married before?”
“Before me.”
Victor stared.
“What was her name?”
The recording crackled.
Then Eleanor said:
“Isabel Vale.”
Evan went still.
“Vale.”
Victor looked at him.
“Thomas Vale's wife.”
Evan shook his head.
“No.”
Eleanor continued:
“Isabel was murdered after she discovered what Augustus was doing.”
Victor stared at the recorder.
“Then Clara was…”
“Thomas Vale's daughter.”
Evan whispered:
“My sister.”
Victor's voice was barely audible.
“And you knew?”
“No.”
“Evan…”
“I didn't know.”
The recording continued.
“I separated the children because I thought it would save them.”
Eleanor began crying.
“I was wrong.”
The tape crackled.
Then she whispered:
“Augustus didn't want the children dead.”
Victor looked up.
“He wanted something worse.”
The recording stopped.
Victor pressed play again.
Nothing.
The tape had ended.
He stared at the recorder.
“What did he want?”
Evan looked at him.
“The bloodline.”
A loud crash came from the corridor.
We all turned.
Someone had entered the last room.
A woman's voice echoed through the doorway.
“That's enough.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Serena.”
She appeared in the doorway.
Her face was bruised.
Her clothes were torn.
But she was holding a gun.
Evan immediately moved between her and Victor.
“Put it down.”
Serena's eyes were fixed on Victor.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because he's already here.”
Victor frowned.
“Who?”
Serena looked behind us.
At the wall.
At the hidden door.
Then she whispered:
“Augustus.”
Victor went pale.
“That's impossible.”
Serena shook her head.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
“Your father never died.”
Silence.
Victor's gun slipped slightly in his hand.
“No.”
“I watched the funeral.”
“It was a body.”
“What?”
“A body.”
Serena nodded.
“Not his.”
Victor stared at her.
“Whose?”
“Thomas Vale's.”
Evan went rigid.
“No.”
Serena continued:
“Augustus staged his own death.”
Victor's face hardened.
“Then where is he?”
Serena looked toward the ceiling.
“He never left the manor.”
A sound came from above us.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Approaching.
Victor looked up.
Serena whispered:
“He's been living inside the walls.”
The lights went out.
A man's voice came through the darkness.
Deep.
Old.
Calm.
“Hello, Victor.”
Victor froze.
Evan stepped backward.
I heard Graves whisper:
“No…”
The voice continued.
“I wondered when you would finally open the last room.”
A light came on.
A man stood at the end of the corridor.
White hair.
Black suit.
A cane.
A face Victor had seen thousands of times in photographs.
Augustus Blackwood.
Alive.
Victor's mouth opened.
“You're dead.”
Augustus smiled.
“So is Eleanor.”
Victor raised his gun.
“You killed her.”
Augustus sighed.
“Your mother always did have a talent for making people believe she was innocent.”
Evan stepped forward.
“You murdered Isabel.”
Augustus looked at him.
“No.”
“You took Clara.”
“No.”
“You separated us.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Augustus smiled.
“Because I was protecting the family.”
Victor's voice shook.
“From what?”
Augustus looked directly at him.
“From you.”
Victor frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Augustus tapped his cane against the floor.
“You were never meant to inherit anything.”
Victor's face hardened.
“I don't care about the inheritance.”
Augustus smiled.
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because the will you found is incomplete.”
Victor looked at the folder.
“What did you do?”
Augustus pointed toward the desk.
“The final page.”
Victor opened the will.
A hidden compartment inside the cover released a folded sheet.
He opened it.
At the top was a single sentence.
THE BLACKWOOD ESTATE SHALL PASS TO THE CHILD WHO BEARS THE BLOOD OF ALL THREE LINES.
Victor read it twice.
He looked at Augustus.
“What does that mean?”
Augustus smiled.
“It means Ethan.”
Victor's face went pale.
Augustus continued:
“Ethan carries your blood.”
Victor looked at Evan.
“He carries Thomas Vale's blood.”
Victor's eyes widened.
“And he carries Adrian Black's.”
Victor whispered:
“How?”
Augustus smiled.
“Because Eleanor didn't die giving birth to Ethan.”
Victor stopped breathing.
“She died before he was born.”
Silence.
Augustus continued:
“Ethan was conceived before Eleanor's death.”
Victor stared at him.
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying your son is the child that all three men fought to claim.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
Augustus's smile disappeared.
“And now everyone wants him.”
Serena raised her gun.
“Don't listen to him.”
Augustus turned toward her.
“You're still protecting the boy.”
“Yes.”
“You always were sentimental.”
Victor looked at Serena.
“You knew.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You knew everything.”
“I knew enough.”
“And you still hurt Ethan.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I was trying to make you take him away from the house.”
Victor stared.
“You could have told me.”
“You wouldn't have believed me.”
“You should have tried.”
Serena's voice broke.
“I did.”
Victor went silent.
“When?”
“Every day.”
She looked at him.
“You just couldn't hear me over your father's voice.”
A sudden gunshot exploded.
Serena jerked backward.
Blood appeared across her shoulder.
Victor shouted:
“Serena!”
Augustus lowered his gun.
Evan fired.
Augustus disappeared behind the doorway.
“Run!”
Victor grabbed Serena.
She was bleeding badly.
“Where's Ethan?”
Serena looked at him.
“Not here.”
“What?”
“He was taken.”
“By whom?”
Her eyes widened.
“Clara.”
Victor froze.
“Clara?”
Serena nodded.
“She came back.”
“Where?”
Serena whispered:
“The old chapel.”
Victor stared at her.
“Why?”
Serena's expression changed.
“Because she found the truth.”
“What truth?”
Serena looked at the last room.
Then at Victor.
“She knows who really killed Eleanor.”
A terrible silence followed.
Victor tightened his grip around her.
“Who?”
Serena swallowed.
“Not Augustus.”
“Then who?”
She looked toward Evan.
Then toward the door through which Augustus had escaped.
Finally she whispered:
“Someone you haven't met yet.”
Victor's face hardened.
“Who?”
Serena closed her eyes.
“The first son.”
Victor stared.
“Evan is the first son.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Evan was the first son Eleanor had.”
A pause.
“But he wasn't the first son Augustus had.”
The words seemed to drain the air from the room.
Victor whispered:
“Then who?”
Serena looked at him.
“The boy your father kept hidden even from himself.”
And somewhere far above us—
a child began laughing.
Victor looked toward the ceiling.
“Ethan.”
We ran.
But before we reached the stairs, the underground door slammed shut.
A lock turned.
Then another.
And from the darkness came Augustus's voice.
“You finally understand, Victor.”
A pause.
“You were never searching for your family.”
Another pause.
“You were searching for the person who destroyed it.”
The lights went out.
And in the darkness, someone whispered directly into my ear:
“Don't let Victor find the last room.”
I turned.
Nobody was there.
Then my phone vibrated.
One new message.
No number.
Only four words:
ETHAN IS WITH ME.
May you like
And beneath them:
COME ALONE.
