CHAPTER 11 — The Hunt
CHAPTER 11 — The Hunt
The recording ended.
Nobody moved.
The final words remained trapped in the room.
Richard was never working alone.
And then my father's voice.
My father's unmistakable voice.
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything else.
Not the wind.
Not the police sirens outside.
Not even Emma breathing against my shoulder.
My father had been part of it.
Or at least, that was what the recording seemed to prove.
Lauren stared at me.
"Mom..."
My mother was crying.
"No."
She shook her head violently.
"No, that's not what it means."
I looked at her.
"Then tell me what it means."
She couldn't.
That silence was worse than any confession.
James took the recorder from my hand.
"We need to hear the entire recording."
"Now?"
"Especially now."
He connected it to his phone.
The recording began again.
My grandfather's voice filled the room.
"Richard was never working alone."
A pause.
Then my father's younger voice:
"If we don't stop him, Evelyn will be next."
I froze.
James stopped the playback.
I stared at him.
"Play it."
He did.
My father's voice continued.
"I'll give him what he wants."
My grandfather answered:
"And what happens when he comes for you?"
My father:
"He won't. He trusts me."
My grandfather:
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
The recording ended.
I looked at my mother.
"That's not betrayal."
She nodded.
"No."
My voice trembled.
"Then what was Dad doing?"
"Trying to infiltrate Richard's operation."
I closed my eyes.
My father had been pretending to help Richard.
All these years...
he had been playing a dangerous game from inside.
But then why had he lied?
Why had he let us believe Mom was dead?
Why had he allowed the family to fracture?
My mother whispered:
"Because he failed."
James looked toward the window.
"We have a bigger problem."
"What?"
He held up the message from my father's phone.
COME TO THE OLD FACTORY ALONE.
"Richard wants you."
"I know."
"No."
James looked directly at me.
"He doesn't just want you."
He pointed to the recording.
"He wants whatever this proves."
I tightened my grip on Emma.
"And if he gets it?"
"Then he can destroy the trust."
My mother shook her head.
"Not anymore."
James turned.
"What do you mean?"
She reached into her coat.
Pulled out a small envelope.
"I made a copy."
Inside was a memory card.
"The complete recording."
James stared.
"Where did you get this?"
"Your father gave it to me six years ago."
"Why didn't you use it?"
"Because Richard had people everywhere."
She looked at me.
"Even inside the police."
The room went silent.
"How many?"
"I don't know."
"Then how do we know whom to trust?"
"We don't."
James nodded.
"Exactly."
He walked toward the door.
"We don't call anyone."
I looked at him.
"Then what do we do?"
"We hunt."
We left before midnight.
The old factory stood on the outskirts of the city.
It had been abandoned for years.
Broken windows.
Rusting metal.
Overgrown weeds.
Perfect place for a trap.
James parked several blocks away.
"We walk from here."
Lauren looked at him.
"What if they have people watching?"
"They do."
"How do you know?"
James pointed across the street.
A black sedan.
Engine running.
Two men inside.
Lauren swallowed.
"They're watching us."
"Yes."
I looked at Mom.
"Then how do we get past them?"
James smiled faintly.
"We don't."
He turned off the headlights.
"We make them think we're going somewhere else."
Twenty minutes later, three vehicles approached the factory.
Two were police cars.
One was an armored SUV.
The men watching the factory immediately reacted.
They called someone.
But James and I were nowhere near them.
We had entered through an underground drainage tunnel.
Mom and Lauren followed.
The tunnel smelled of rust and damp concrete.
Emma remained safely with a trusted driver outside.
I hated leaving her.
But I knew this was the only way.
At the end of the tunnel was a steel door.
James opened it.
We entered the factory.
Darkness surrounded us.
Then we heard a voice.
"You're late."
Richard.
He stood on a metal platform above us.
Beside him—
my father.
Tied to a chair.
Blood covered his forehead.
"Dad!"
He lifted his head.
"Evelyn."
Richard smiled.
"Welcome."
James raised his weapon.
Richard's men immediately aimed theirs.
"Put it down," Richard said.
James didn't move.
Richard smiled.
"You have one second."
James slowly lowered the weapon.
Richard looked at me.
"Come forward."
I stepped out.
My mother grabbed my arm.
"Don't."
I whispered:
"It's okay."
"No."
Mom's voice shook.
"He'll kill you."
Richard laughed.
"She's right."
I stopped.
"Then why did you bring me here?"
"Because your grandfather left something that belongs to me."
"No."
"It belongs to you."
I held up the memory card.
Richard's face changed.
"You have it."
"Yes."
"Give it to me."
"No."
He smiled.
"You really are your grandfather's granddaughter."
My father suddenly shouted:
"Don't give it to him!"
Richard struck him.
I flinched.
"Stop!"
Richard looked at me.
"Give me the card."
I held it tighter.
"You first."
He laughed.
"You think you're negotiating?"
"Yes."
"You're surrounded."
"So are you."
His smile disappeared.
James looked toward the upper catwalk.
Two shadows moved.
His backup team.
Richard hadn't noticed them.
James had.
"Richard."
Richard turned.
"Yes?"
"You might want to look behind you."
The factory lights suddenly came on.
Several armed officers appeared above us.
Richard's men panicked.
Gunfire erupted.
James pulled me behind a concrete pillar.
My mother dragged Lauren down.
My father fell sideways with the chair.
Richard disappeared.
"Find him!"
James shouted.
The factory became chaos.
Men ran in every direction.
Glass shattered.
Metal rang.
Smoke filled the air.
I crawled toward my father.
"Dad!"
"I'm okay."
I cut the ropes.
He struggled to stand.
"Where's Richard?"
"Upstairs."
James appeared beside us.
"Get outside."
"No."
"Evelyn."
"I'm not leaving him."
James looked at my father.
Then nodded.
"Fine."
We moved together.
We reached the upper floor.
Richard was gone.
But a door stood open.
Behind it—
a narrow corridor.
James entered first.
I followed.
At the end was a room.
Empty.
Except for a chair.
And a laptop.
On the screen was a live video feed.
My house.
My nursery.
Emma's room.
I froze.
"They're watching her."
James immediately took the laptop.
The video switched.
Another camera.
Our living room.
Then my mother's bedroom.
Then the kitchen.
Then—
the street outside.
My blood ran cold.
"This has been running for months."
James nodded.
"Maybe longer."
A file appeared on the screen.
PROJECT EVELYN.
I opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Hundreds.
My childhood.
My school.
My first job.
My wedding.
Emma.
Everything.
Someone had documented my entire life.
Lauren stared at the screen.
"Why?"
A voice answered from behind us.
"Because you were never supposed to survive."
We turned.
Richard stood in the doorway.
Gun raised.
My father stepped in front of me.
Richard smiled.
"Arthur."
My father stared at him.
"You should have killed me when you had the chance."
Richard's expression hardened.
"I should have."
Dad took another step.
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Because you needed me."
Richard laughed.
"I needed your signature."
"For the trust."
"For everything."
Dad shook his head.
"You never got it."
Richard looked at me.
"Not yet."
He raised the gun.
James fired first.
Richard dropped the weapon and ran.
We chased him.
Down the corridor.
Across the metal stairs.
Through the factory floor.
He reached a side exit.
James was faster.
He tackled him into the snow.
Richard fought desperately.
But James pinned him.
"You're done."
Richard laughed.
"You think this ends here?"
James handcuffed him.
"It ends tonight."
Richard looked at me.
"No."
His smile returned.
"It begins tonight."
Police took Richard away.
The factory was searched.
The surveillance equipment was confiscated.
My father was taken to the hospital.
Lauren stayed beside me.
For the first time, she looked exhausted instead of afraid.
"I thought he was going to kill you."
"I thought so too."
She gave a weak laugh.
"That's not funny."
"No."
I looked at her.
"I'm glad you came."
She looked surprised.
"After everything?"
"You're my sister."
Lauren began crying.
"I don't deserve you."
"Maybe not."
I hugged her anyway.
Then James approached.
"We found something."
"What?"
He handed me a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a small black notebook.
"Richard's."
I opened it.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Meetings.
Every transaction.
Every person he had manipulated.
Then I saw one name circled in red.
LAUREN CARTER.
I looked at my sister.
She went pale.
"What?"
I turned the page.
There were photographs of her.
Meeting Daniel Reeves.
Entering my house.
Talking to Richard.
My stomach dropped.
Lauren shook her head.
"No."
"I didn't—"
She stopped.
Tears filled her eyes.
"I swear, Evelyn."
I looked at the dates.
Some were from before I knew she'd ever met Daniel.
One photograph was dated six years ago.
Lauren was standing beside Richard.
She looked barely old enough to drive.
"What is this?"
Lauren stared at it.
"I don't remember."
Richard had one final message written beneath the photograph.
She knows more than she thinks.
I looked at Lauren.
She looked terrified.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then a distorted voice whispered:
"Ask your sister what happened the night your mother disappeared."
The call ended.
Lauren dropped the phone.
I stared at her.
"What happened that night?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
But her expression told me something else.
She did.
Perhaps she had forgotten.
Perhaps she had been forced to forget.
Or perhaps she had spent six years lying to herself.
My mother arrived at the hospital shortly afterward.
When she saw the photograph, she stopped cold.
"Where did you get that?"
I handed it to her.
"Richard's notebook."
Mom looked at Lauren.
Then at me.
Her face became pale.
"There is something I never told you."
I waited.
She whispered:
"Lauren was the last person to see me before I disappeared."
Lauren stared at her.
"What?"
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
"You came into my room that night."
"I was twelve."
"I know."
"What did I do?"
Mom reached for her hand.
"You gave me a message."
"What message?"
Mom looked at me.
Then said:
"You told me..."
She swallowed.
"Dad said I had to choose which daughter would survive."
The hallway went silent.
Lauren's face drained of color.
My heart stopped.
And suddenly, the biggest question wasn't who had betrayed our family.
May you like
It was something far more terrifying.
What had my father been forced to choose?
