Chapter 7 — Celeste's Real Name
Chapter 7 — Celeste's Real Name
The lights went out.
Complete darkness swallowed the room.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then the woman behind the steel door whispered again.
"Connor..."
I knew that voice.
I had heard it in dreams.
In recordings.
In the fragments of memories I had never understood.
But there was something else in it now.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Mom?"
Ewan grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't open it."
I turned toward him.
"That's my mother."
"We don't know who that is."
"You heard her."
"I heard a voice."
Celeste stepped closer.
"Ewan is right."
I stared at her.
"You too?"
"Connor, think."
"I've been thinking my entire life."
I reached for the steel door.
"Tonight I'm opening it."
Before I could touch the handle, footsteps sounded above us.
Slow.
Measured.
Someone was walking through the house.
Not running.
Not hiding.
Walking like they owned the place.
Ewan raised his gun.
Celeste did the same.
I whispered:
"How many?"
"At least two," Ewan said.
Then a man's voice came through the darkness.
"Three."
I recognized it.
My grandfather.
Anthony Bradley.
He laughed softly.
"You always were your father's son."
The Door
The lights flickered back on.
Anthony stood at the top of the staircase.
Two armed men stood behind him.
But he wasn't looking at Ewan.
He was looking at Celeste.
"Come here."
Celeste didn't move.
Anthony smiled.
"You've been hiding long enough."
I stepped between them.
"Who is she?"
Anthony's expression changed.
"What?"
"Celeste."
He laughed.
"You still call her that?"
Celeste closed her eyes.
I turned toward her.
"What is your real name?"
She didn't answer.
Anthony did.
"Her name is not Celeste Vandermark."
He walked down the stairs.
"Her name is Elena Mercer."
The room went silent.
I stared at Celeste.
"No."
Anthony smiled.
"Yes."
Celeste shook her head.
"He's lying."
"Am I?"
He looked at her.
"Tell him."
She said nothing.
Anthony continued.
"Tell your son who you really are."
My heart stopped.
My son.
The words echoed inside my head.
I looked at Celeste.
She was crying.
"Connor..."
I stepped backward.
"No."
"Please."
"No."
Ewan looked between us.
"Celeste?"
She finally whispered:
"My name is Elena."
The Woman I Was Supposed to Hate
My knees almost gave out.
Elena.
The name from the photograph.
The woman who supposedly died.
My biological mother.
Standing in front of me.
Alive.
For years I'd imagined my biological mother as a mystery.
A dead woman.
Someone whose face existed only in old photographs.
I'd never imagined she would be standing three feet away.
The woman I had planned to marry.
The woman I had accused of betrayal.
The woman who had lied to me for two years.
Was my mother.
I couldn't breathe.
"Why?"
Elena covered her mouth.
"I didn't know how to tell you."
"You knew."
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Since the day I met you."
"Then why did you let me love you?"
Her face collapsed.
"I never wanted you to."
"That's not true."
"It is."
She wiped her tears.
"When I first saw you, I didn't know who you were."
"Then?"
"Then I saw your eyes."
She smiled sadly.
"Your father's eyes."
I looked away.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Anthony had found me first."
I looked toward my grandfather.
He smiled.
"I gave her a choice."
Elena turned toward him.
"You gave me nothing."
Anthony shrugged.
"I gave you life."
"You killed Thomas."
"You killed Victor."
"You killed my mother."
Anthony's smile disappeared.
"Careful."
Elena stepped forward.
"I spent twenty-seven years afraid of you."
Then she looked at me.
"I won't spend another."
The Name Before Elena
Ewan stared at her.
"If you're Elena Mercer..."
"Yes."
"Then who was the woman who raised Connor?"
Elena's expression softened.
"Evelyn."
My adoptive mother.
I looked at her.
"She knew?"
"Not at first."
"When did she find out?"
"After your fifth birthday."
I remembered that year.
My mother had become distant.
My father had started traveling more.
Evelyn had cried often.
I'd assumed it was because Ewan had gotten into trouble.
But it had been something else.
Elena continued.
"Your grandfather told Evelyn that if she ever revealed the truth, he'd take you."
"Why?"
"Because you were the last piece of leverage he had over Victor."
I looked at Anthony.
"Leverage for what?"
"Your father had stolen something."
"What?"
"The original Bradley trust."
I frowned.
"The billion-dollar trust?"
Anthony nodded.
"Your father tried to move it out of my control."
"And Connor?"
"You were named as one of the beneficiaries."
My stomach tightened.
"So I was valuable."
"You were dangerous."
Celeste Vandermark
I turned back to Elena.
"Then who is Celeste Vandermark?"
She hesitated.
"Nobody."
"What?"
"Celeste Vandermark was a name created for me."
"By whom?"
"Your grandfather."
I stared.
"Why?"
"Because Elena Mercer was officially dead."
Anthony answered.
"She needed another identity."
"To hide."
"To serve me."
Elena glared at him.
"To survive."
Anthony smiled.
"Same thing."
I looked at her.
"Why did you become my fiancée?"
She looked devastated.
"Because Anthony told me you were going to destroy everything."
"What?"
"He told me you were preparing to expose the family."
"I wasn't."
"I know that now."
"And the wedding?"
"I was supposed to convince you to sign the trust documents."
I laughed bitterly.
"So everything was a lie."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"Not everything."
"What wasn't?"
"The way I felt about you."
I stared at her.
"You are my mother."
"Yes."
"And you were pretending to love me as a woman."
Her eyes filled with shame.
"I know."
"Do you understand what that did to me?"
"Every day."
"How?"
"Because I hated myself for it."
The Secret Behind the Marriage
Anthony interrupted.
"You two can discuss your feelings later."
I turned toward him.
"You planned this."
"Of course."
"You made her pretend to love me."
"She was useful."
"She was my fiancée."
"She was your mother."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Anthony smiled.
"Do you know how easy it was?"
I stared.
"She thought you were dead."
He pointed toward Elena.
"I told her her son had died years ago."
Elena's face twisted.
"I believed him."
"He showed you a death certificate."
"Yes."
"A photograph."
"Yes."
"A grave."
She nodded.
"All fake."
I looked at my grandfather.
"And then?"
"I brought you into her life."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to see whether she would recognize you."
"And she did."
"Immediately."
Elena whispered:
"I knew the moment I saw him."
Anthony smiled.
"That's when the plan changed."
The Real Plan
I stared at him.
"What plan?"
"You were never supposed to inherit the company."
"Then who?"
"Mara."
I felt my stomach drop.
"Why Mara?"
"Because she was the legal heir."
I looked at Elena.
"She was?"
"Yes."
Anthony continued.
"Your father changed the trust before he disappeared."
"How?"
"He named Mara as primary beneficiary."
"So you tried to find her."
"Exactly."
"And when you couldn't?"
"I created another plan."
I understood.
"Me."
Anthony nodded.
"You were easier to control."
"Why?"
"Because you loved the wrong people."
My jaw tightened.
"Mother."
"Your wife."
"I don't have a wife."
"You thought you were marrying Celeste."
He smiled.
"You loved her."
I stared.
"You used my emotions."
"I used what you gave me."
The Woman Behind the Door
A weak sound came from behind the steel door.
Everyone turned.
"Connor."
It was the voice again.
My heart raced.
I looked at Elena.
She was staring at the door.
"Who is behind it?"
She whispered:
"My sister."
"Delia?"
Elena nodded.
"She's alive."
Ewan moved toward the door.
Anthony's guards raised their guns.
"Don't."
Ewan stopped.
Anthony smiled.
"She knows too much."
I looked at him.
"Then why keep her alive?"
"Because she knows where Mara is."
The room went silent.
I stepped forward.
"Where is my sister?"
Anthony looked at me.
"Closer than you think."
"What does that mean?"
He smiled.
"You'll find out."
Then the steel door opened.
Not from our side.
From inside.
A woman stumbled out.
Older.
Injured.
Her hair streaked with gray.
Her face was thin.
But I recognized her immediately.
Delia.
She looked at me.
Then at Elena.
Then at Ewan.
Finally, she whispered:
"He's lying."
Anthony's smile disappeared.
Delia pointed at him.
"Your grandfather didn't hide Mara."
I stepped toward her.
"Then where is she?"
Delia looked directly at Elena.
"She was never in Milwaukee."
Elena's face went white.
"What?"
Delia whispered:
"Mara has been living in this house."
The Missing Daughter
I stared at her.
"That's impossible."
Delia shook her head.
"No."
"Where?"
She pointed upward.
"Second floor."
"My mother's room?"
"No."
"The nursery?"
"Yes."
My childhood nursery.
The room nobody had entered for years.
I remembered it.
A small room at the end of the hallway.
My parents had told me it was where Ewan slept when he was a baby.
I hadn't been inside since I was six.
"Who lives there?"
Delia looked at me.
"Mara."
I turned toward Ewan.
He looked just as stunned.
"How?"
"Your mother hid her there."
"Twenty-seven years?"
Delia shook her head.
"No."
She looked toward Elena.
"Only for the last six."
My blood ran cold.
"Why?"
"Because after Pier 44, Mara was no longer safe."
"Where was she before?"
"Everywhere."
"Who protected her?"
"Your mother."
"Then why bring her here?"
Delia's eyes filled with tears.
"Because six years ago, Mara discovered the truth."
"What truth?"
"That Victor was her father."
I stared.
"And then?"
"She came looking for him."
"And?"
Delia looked at Anthony.
"He found her first."
The Locked Nursery
We ran upstairs.
Anthony's guards didn't stop us.
That was the first thing that frightened me.
They wanted us to go.
They wanted us to see something.
The nursery door was locked.
I tried the handle.
Nothing.
Ewan pulled out a key.
The door opened.
Inside was darkness.
Dust covered the furniture.
The curtains were closed.
But something moved near the window.
A young woman stepped into the light.
Twenty-seven years old.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
A small scar above her eyebrow.
The same face from the photograph.
She looked at Elena.
Then at me.
"Connor."
I couldn't speak.
"Mara?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
Elena rushed forward.
Mara stepped back.
"Don't."
Elena stopped.
Mara's eyes filled with tears.
"You let me believe you were dead."
"I was trying to protect you."
"You let me believe I had no family."
"I had no choice."
Mara looked at me.
"And you..."
She smiled sadly.
"You were supposed to be my brother."
I swallowed.
"I am your brother."
She nodded.
"I know."
Then she looked toward the doorway.
Her smile disappeared.
"Unfortunately..."
She pointed behind me.
"...so is he."
I turned.
Anthony stood there.
But he wasn't alone.
Beside him stood my father.
Victor.
My father raised a gun.
And pointed it directly at Mara.
"Nobody move."
I stared at him.
"Father?"
His face was unreadable.
Then he said something that shattered everything I'd just learned.
"Mara isn't your sister."
I froze.
Victor looked at Elena.
"She's my daughter."
Then he looked at me.
"And so are you."
Mara stared at him.
"That's impossible."
Victor lowered the gun slightly.
"No."
He looked toward Anthony.
"The old man has been lying about our family for thirty years."
Anthony smiled.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.
Victor continued:
"Because the woman you call your grandfather..."
He pointed at Anthony.
"...isn't actually your grandfather."
Silence.
"What?"
Victor's voice dropped.
"He's your mother's father."
I looked at Elena.
She closed her eyes.
And Anthony finally whispered:
"Enough."
Victor laughed.
"No."
He looked at me.
"Connor, you deserve to know who you really are."
Then he raised the gun toward Anthony.
"Your grandfather isn't the man who started this."
He pulled back the hammer.
"The man behind everything..."
He looked at Elena.
"...is her father."
I stared at Anthony.
He smiled.
And suddenly the lights went out again.
A gunshot exploded through the nursery.
Then another.
Mara screamed.
And when the emergency lights came on...
Victor was gone.
Anthony was gone.
And lying on the floor between us was a single sheet of paper.
I picked it up.
May you like
Three words were written in black ink:
ASK YOUR MOTHER.
