CHAPTER 8 — THE FEDERAL EYES

CHAPTER 8 — THE FEDERAL EYES

The words followed me long after my father left.

Ryan is alive.

Three words that should have brought relief.

Instead, they brought something colder.

Fear.

Because people weren't erased for no reason.

They weren't hidden because someone wanted privacy.

They were hidden because someone wanted them forgotten.

And forgotten people usually carried dangerous truths.

The Warren estate felt different after my father disappeared.

The same walls.

The same expensive furniture.

The same photographs.

But the illusion was gone.

A house built on lies always feels smaller once you know the truth.

Celia sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the floor.

She had been silent for twenty minutes.

That was unusual.

My sister had always filled silence.

When we were children, she talked when she was nervous.

When we were teenagers, she talked when she was angry.

As adults, she talked when she wanted people to see the version of herself she created.

Now...

There was nothing.

Only the person underneath.

“He knew.”

Her voice was barely audible.

I looked at her.

“What?”

“Dad knew you would find out eventually.”

I said nothing.

“He wasn't surprised.”

“No.”

I looked toward the hallway where he had disappeared.

“He wanted me to know.”

Celia frowned.

“Why would he do that?”

I thought about his expression.

The calmness.

The confidence.

The way he looked at me before leaving.

“He wanted to scare me.”

“Did it work?”

I looked at her.

“Yes.”

She looked surprised.

“Really?”

I nodded.

“Because now I know this is bigger than money.”

Money was easy.

Money had numbers.

Documents.

Transfers.

Evidence.

But people?

People were harder.

People could destroy everything while claiming they were protecting it.

My phone vibrated.

Agent Cole.

I answered immediately.

“Tell me you found something.”

His voice was serious.

“We found something.”

Not the answer I wanted.

“What?”

“Someone accessed federal databases connected to Ryan Warren.”

My expression changed.

“Who?”

“That is the problem.”

A pause.

“They used credentials belonging to someone who should not exist anymore.”

I stood.

“Explain.”

“We traced the access code.”

“And?”

“It belonged to an agent.”

“Who?”

Silence.

Then:

“Special Agent Daniel Cross.”

The name meant nothing.

But Agent Cole's tone meant everything.

“Who is he?”

“He was my partner.”

The room went quiet.

Celia looked at me.

I turned away.

“Your partner?”

“Yes.”

“And he doesn't exist?”

“He died eight years ago.”

I felt the same cold sensation I had felt when seeing Ryan's name.

Another ghost.

Another person my family somehow connected to.

“How?”

“We don't know.”

“You said he died.”

“He did.”

“Then how did he access the system?”

Agent Cole didn't answer.

Because that was the question.

“Where are you?”

“Outside your location.”

I looked toward the window.

“You followed me?”

“No.”

A pause.

“I protected you.”

Five minutes later, Agent Cole entered the house.

But he wasn't alone.

Two federal agents followed him.

Not security.

Not local police.

People trained to disappear into crowds.

People trained to observe before acting.

Federal eyes.

The first agent was a woman.

Late thirties.

Short dark hair.

Calm expression.

“Major Warren.”

I nodded.

“Agent?”

“Special Agent Rachel Hayes.”

She looked at Celia.

Then back at me.

“We need to discuss what your father has been hiding.”

I almost smiled.

Everyone wanted to discuss secrets.

Nobody wanted to admit they created them.

“What did you find?”

Agent Hayes placed a folder on the table.

“Your father has been monitored for eleven months.”

Celia looked shocked.

“Eleven?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't anyone tell us?”

Agent Hayes looked at her.

“Because your family has a problem.”

Celia stiffened.

“What problem?”

“Everyone talks.”

The answer was brutal.

And accurate.

Agent Hayes opened the folder.

Inside were photographs.

My father.

Nolan.

Various meetings.

Different locations.

Different people.

People I recognized.

Politicians.

Business leaders.

Foundation partners.

“This isn't only about the Valor Foundation.”

Agent Hayes said.

I looked at the pictures.

“What is it about?”

“Influence.”

A word.

Simple.

Dangerous.

“Your mother's foundation was valuable because it had access.”

“Access to what?”

“Military communities.”

“Veterans.”

“Government contacts.”

“High-level donors.”

Agent Hayes looked at me.

“Your mother created a charity.”

A pause.

“Someone else saw an opportunity to create a network.”

Nolan.

“Where is Nolan now?”

Agent Hayes exchanged a look with Cole.

That worried me.

“What?”

“He disappeared.”

Celia immediately stood.

“What?”

“When?”

“Three hours ago.”

Her face went pale.

“He wouldn't disappear.”

I looked at her.

“You're sure?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“He always controls the situation.”

Exactly.

People like Nolan didn't run.

They repositioned.

Agent Cole opened another file.

“There's more.”

I looked at him.

“What?”

“The device your mother left you.”

“Yes?”

“It wasn't just storage.”

“What was it?”

“A key.”

The room went silent.

“A key to what?”

Agent Cole looked at the documents.

“Your mother's private archive.”

I frowned.

“I thought that was the archive.”

“No.”

He shook his head.

“That was only the first layer.”

Another layer.

Of course.

My mother always planned ahead.

“How do we access it?”

Agent Hayes answered.

“We don't.”

I looked at her.

“Why?”

“Because your mother created a biometric lock.”

“Mine?”

“Yes.”

I understood.

“She expected me to find it.”

“Yes.”

Agent Cole looked at me.

“There's one problem.”

“What?”

“The archive isn't only connected to the foundation.”

A pause.

“It is connected to federal intelligence.”

My stomach tightened.

“My mother had government access?”

“Not officially.”

“Then?”

Agent Hayes looked at me.

“She had information.”

Information.

The same word my mother used.

The same thing my father underestimated.

A notification appeared on Agent Hayes' phone.

She read it.

Her expression changed.

“What?”

She looked at me.

“We have movement.”

“From who?”

She turned the screen.

A security camera image.

A man entering a private airport.

Dark jacket.

Baseball cap.

Walking alone.

But I recognized him immediately.

Not because I had met him.

Because I had seen the photograph.

Ryan Warren.

My heart stopped.

“He's alive.”

Agent Cole nodded.

“Yes.”

“Where is he going?”

Agent Hayes looked at the information.

“Somewhere he knows we will follow.”

I stared.

“What does that mean?”

She looked at me.

“It means he wants to be found.”

The airport footage continued.

Ryan stopped near a camera.

Then looked directly into it.

Like he knew someone was watching.

Like he knew we would see.

Then he lifted something.

A small white object.

A rose.

My mother's symbol.

Agent Cole whispered:

“He knows.”

I looked at the screen.

At the brother I never knew.

The brother my father erased.

The brother my mother tried to protect.

And I realized something.

Ryan wasn't running from the family.

He was waiting for us to catch up.

“Get me there.”

Agent Hayes shook her head.

“Major—”

“No.”

I stepped closer.

“You said he wants to be found.”

“Yes.”

“Then we don't make him wait.”

The agents exchanged looks.

Finally, Agent Cole nodded.

“We leave in ten minutes.”

As we prepared to leave, Celia grabbed my arm.

Not hard.

Not like before.

Different.

Like the little girl from years ago.

“Don't go alone.”

I looked at her.

“You shouldn't come.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

Her eyes were tired.

Because she had finally stopped pretending.

“Because if Ryan is our brother…”

A pause.

“I lost one sibling already.”

I didn't answer.

Because I understood.

For years, my family had been built around people disappearing.

My mother.

Ryan.

The truth.

Maybe even me.

Outside, black government vehicles waited.

The city lights reflected across the windows.

Washington looked peaceful.

It wasn't.

Behind every building were secrets.

Behind every powerful name was something hidden.

And now the people who spent years watching from the shadows...

Were stepping into the light.

Federal eyes had been watching my family.

But they had made one mistake.

They thought they were only observing the war.

They didn't realize the war had already reached them.

As the vehicle moved toward the airport, my phone received one final message.

Unknown number.

One sentence.

ELISE, IF YOU FIND RYAN, DO NOT BELIEVE EVERYTHING HE TELLS YOU.

My blood turned cold.

Because the message came from someone impossible.

Someone whose phone should have been destroyed years ago.

GRANT WARREN

I stared at the screen.

My father.

Again.

Always one step ahead.

The question was no longer:

Where is Ryan Warren?

The question was:

Who was the real prisoner?

The brother who disappeared?

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Or the family that survived without him?

END OF CHAPTER 8 — THE FEDERAL EYES