Chapter 8 — The Second Person on the Camera
Chapter 8 — The Second Person on the Camera
Preston wanted to confess.
That should have made me feel relieved.
Instead, it terrified me.
Because people like Preston didn't suddenly become honest.
They became honest when they were afraid.
And after everything I had learned, I was no longer sure what Preston was afraid of.
Money?
Prison?
My father?
Michael?
Or the possibility that someone would finally discover what he had been hiding for thirty years?
Detective Harris had ordered me not to come to the hospital.
I went anyway.
Michael followed.
He didn't argue.
He simply got into the passenger seat and stared out the window while I drove.
Neither of us spoke.
There were too many questions between us.
Too many lies.
Too much history that neither of us understood.
Finally, I broke the silence.
"Why did Preston want to confess?"
Michael looked at me.
"Because the camera caught him."
"That's not enough."
"No."
"What are you not telling me?"
He was quiet.
Then:
"The second person."
I tightened my hands around the steering wheel.
"The person beside my table."
Michael nodded.
"You saw her?"
"Yes."
"Who was she?"
"I don't know."
I glanced at him.
"You're lying."
"No."
"You knew everyone at that wedding."
"Not everyone."
"She was standing beside me."
"I know."
"And she helped Preston plant the phone."
"Yes."
"Then who was she?"
Michael looked out the window again.
"Someone who shouldn't have been there."
My stomach tightened.
"That isn't an answer."
"It is the only one I have."
I stopped at a red light.
"Michael."
He looked at me.
"Your daughter is alive because that woman made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"She looked directly at the camera."
I froze.
"What?"
"She knew it was there."
"Then why look?"
"Because she wanted someone to know."
"Who?"
Michael's eyes hardened.
"That's what we're going to find out."
Preston was under guard.
Two officers stood outside his room.
When I arrived, Detective Harris was waiting.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I know."
He sighed.
"Then let's make this quick."
"What did Preston say?"
"Nothing yet."
"Why?"
"He's waiting for you."
I looked at the door.
"Why me?"
"Because he claims you're the only person he'll trust."
I almost laughed.
"After everything he did to Sophie?"
Harris didn't respond.
I opened the door.
Preston was sitting upright.
His injuries were worse than I had expected.
Bruises covered his face.
One eye was swollen shut.
His left arm was secured in a sling.
But the thing that frightened me wasn't the injuries.
It was his expression.
He looked exhausted.
Not angry.
Not arrogant.
Afraid.
He looked at me.
"You came."
"Start talking."
He swallowed.
"I didn't kill anyone."
"I didn't ask."
"I know what you're going to ask."
"Then answer it."
He looked toward Detective Harris.
"Can we have privacy?"
"No."
Preston sighed.
"Fine."
He looked at me.
"The woman on the camera."
I waited.
"Her name is Victoria."
My heart skipped.
"Victoria who?"
"I don't know her last name."
"You brought her to the wedding."
"No."
"Then how did she get there?"
"My father arranged it."
I stared.
"Why?"
"To make sure the phone was found."
"But you planted it."
"Yes."
"Why did she help?"
"Because she had something to gain."
"What?"
Preston looked down.
"The trust."
I frowned.
"She wanted Sophie's inheritance?"
"Not directly."
"Then what?"
"She wanted control of it."
"Who did she work for?"
Preston hesitated.
"My father."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"My father hired her?"
"Yes."
"To do what?"
"To become your friend."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"She had been watching you for months."
"Why?"
"To learn your routines."
"My routines?"
"When you left home."
"When you took Sophie to school."
"When you went to work."
"When you visited your grandfather."
I felt cold.
"They were planning something."
Preston nodded.
"For a long time."
"What?"
He looked directly at me.
"They wanted Sophie gone."
I stepped closer.
"Why?"
"Because as long as Sophie existed, your father couldn't control the trust."
"That's not true."
"It is."
"The trust was already active."
"Now."
He shook his head.
"Not before the wedding."
I stared.
"What changed?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Once you became trustee, your father lost control."
I understood.
The attack on Sophie hadn't been the objective.
It had been the trigger.
They wanted to disqualify her before the trust activated.
And if they couldn't...
They would remove her.
I looked at Preston.
"Did you know they planned to hurt her?"
His eyes filled with shame.
"Yes."
My chest tightened.
"When?"
"Three months ago."
"And you said nothing."
"I was afraid."
"You always say that."
"I know."
"You watched them target my daughter."
"I tried to stop it."
"By planting evidence?"
"I thought if Sophie looked guilty, the trust would be delayed."
I stared at him.
"You thought framing an eight-year-old was protecting her?"
"No."
He looked away.
"I thought it would buy time."
"For what?"
"For me to find the original document."
"What document?"
"The birth register."
My heart stopped.
"What birth register?"
"The one proving Michael's identity."
I looked at Michael.
He was standing near the door.
His face had gone completely still.
Preston continued.
"My father knew Michael was alive."
"Then why did he claim he was dead?"
"Because the original birth record contained a second name."
"Whose?"
Preston looked at me.
"Daniel Bennett."
Michael stepped forward.
"What did you find?"
Preston's voice shook.
"Your father."
Michael froze.
"You found my father?"
"No."
Preston swallowed.
"I found the record of his death."
I frowned.
"That's impossible."
"He died."
Michael's jaw tightened.
"When?"
"Eight years ago."
"How?"
Preston looked at me.
"At the same hospital where Sophie was born."
The room went silent.
I couldn't breathe.
"Daniel was at the hospital?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He had been brought in under an alias."
"Which one?"
Preston shook his head.
"I don't know."
Michael stared at him.
"You knew."
"I knew part of it."
"What happened?"
Preston closed his eyes.
"My father ordered me to find him."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel had the original company records."
"The proof."
"Yes."
"Did you find him?"
"I found his room."
"And?"
"He was already dead."
Michael's hands curled into fists.
"Who killed him?"
Preston looked at me.
"That's what I was trying to find out."
"And?"
"I found the answer."
I stepped closer.
"Who?"
Preston whispered:
"Your mother."
I froze.
"No."
"She didn't know what she was doing."
"What does that mean?"
"She thought she was signing a medical authorization."
"She killed him?"
"No."
"Then explain."
Preston shook his head.
"Someone forged her signature."
"Who?"
"Your father."
I felt dizzy.
"So Dad killed Daniel."
"I don't know."
"You just said—"
"I said he ordered the operation."
"Who carried it out?"
Preston looked at Michael.
"The woman on the camera."
Silence.
Victoria.
The second person beside me.
The woman who had watched Sophie.
The woman who had helped Preston plant the phone.
She wasn't simply working for my father.
She had been there eight years ago.
At the hospital.
The night Daniel died.
The night Sophie was born.
I turned toward Michael.
"You knew?"
He looked at me.
"I suspected."
"You knew Victoria?"
"I knew the name."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I wasn't certain."
I felt anger rising.
"You all keep saying that."
Michael lowered his eyes.
"I didn't want to accuse someone without proof."
"You let me walk into that wedding."
"I didn't know she would be there."
"Then you failed."
He nodded.
"I did."
Preston suddenly spoke.
"She's coming."
I looked at him.
"Who?"
"Victoria."
"Where?"
He stared at the door.
"Here."
The hallway outside went silent.
Detective Harris reached for his weapon.
Michael moved in front of me.
Then the door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
Blonde hair.
Black coat.
Calm expression.
I recognized her immediately.
She had been standing beside me at the wedding.
The woman who had leaned over my shoulder when Preston accused Sophie.
The woman who had whispered:
"Maybe the child really did take it."
Victoria.
She smiled.
"Hello, Evelyn."
My blood ran cold.
"You."
She nodded.
"Me."
Detective Harris raised his weapon.
"Hands where I can see them."
Victoria slowly raised her hands.
"I didn't come here to fight."
"Then why are you here?"
She looked at Preston.
"To finish what he couldn't."
Preston went pale.
"Victoria..."
She ignored him.
Her eyes returned to me.
"You have something that belongs to your family."
"The trust?"
"No."
"The will?"
"No."
"Then what?"
She smiled.
"The child."
Michael stepped forward.
"Don't."
Victoria looked at him.
"Still protecting her?"
"Always."
Victoria laughed.
"You should have died eight years ago."
Michael's face hardened.
"You tried."
"And I failed."
Detective Harris moved closer.
"You're under arrest."
Victoria looked at him.
"Not yet."
She pulled a small device from her pocket.
Michael's expression changed.
"Put it down."
"What is it?"
Victoria smiled.
"A detonator."
Everyone froze.
"There are explosives in the hospital."
My heart stopped.
"Where?"
"Near the pediatric wing."
Detective Harris immediately grabbed his radio.
"Evacuate the hospital."
Victoria continued.
"One wrong move and the entire floor goes up."
"You won't hurt children."
"No."
She looked at me.
"But someone else might."
I felt sick.
"Who?"
Victoria smiled.
"Your husband."
The room seemed to stop.
"My husband?"
"Daniel."
I stared at her.
"Daniel isn't here."
Victoria's smile widened.
"That's what you think."
She pressed the device.
A monitor beside Preston flickered.
A live video appeared.
My husband was sitting in a dark room.
His hands were tied.
His face was bruised.
Behind him stood a man I had never seen before.
Then the camera moved.
I saw Sophie.
My daughter.
Alive.
But terrified.
I screamed.
"No!"
Michael grabbed my arm.
"Don't move."
"Sophie!"
On the screen, my husband looked directly at the camera.
"Evelyn."
His voice broke.
"Don't trust Michael."
I stared.
"What?"
My husband shook his head.
"He lied to you."
Michael stepped toward the screen.
"Where is she?"
The unknown man behind my husband raised a gun.
My husband continued.
"Your father didn't kill Daniel."
I felt numb.
"Then who did?"
My husband looked at me.
"Michael."
Silence.
Michael went completely still.
"No."
My husband whispered:
"Your daughter isn't Michael's."
I couldn't breathe.
"What?"
The screen went black.
Victoria smiled.
And for the first time since she entered the room, she looked genuinely afraid.
Because someone had stepped into the hallway behind her.
A man.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Carrying a worn leather briefcase.
He looked at Michael.
Then at me.
And finally at Victoria.
"Enough."
Victoria dropped the detonator.
The man said:
"Tell her the truth."
I stared at him.
"Who are you?"
He looked directly at me.
"My name is Daniel Bennett."
Michael stopped breathing.
His father.
Alive.
The man my family had claimed was dead.
The man everyone had spent years searching for.
He opened the leather briefcase.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
Medical records.
And one sealed DNA envelope.
He looked at me.
"Before you open that..."
His voice was quiet.
"...you need to understand something."
I couldn't speak.
Daniel placed the envelope on the table.
"The child you've been protecting may not belong to the man you think."
Michael stared at the envelope.
"Father."
Daniel looked at him.
"I didn't come here to hurt her."
"Then why?"
"Because your grandfather made me promise."
"Promise what?"
Daniel looked at me.
"That when the time came, I would give Evelyn the truth."
My hands shook.
"What truth?"
Daniel pointed at the envelope.
"The truth about Sophie's father."
I stared at it.
The final DNA envelope.
The one my family had spent eight years hiding.
The one that could destroy my marriage.
My father.
Michael.
The Bradley empire.
Everyone.
Then Daniel said the words that made my blood run cold.
"But before you open it..."
He looked toward the dark hallway.
"...you should know that Preston is not the only child your father replaced."
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
Daniel's face hardened.
"Your father replaced three children."
May you like
The room went silent.
"And Sophie," he whispered, "was supposed to be the fourth."
