Chapter 9 — Delia's Four Years of Silence
Chapter 9 — Delia's Four Years of Silence
The crying came again.
Soft.
Weak.
Almost lost beneath the hum of the ventilation system.
Mara turned toward the sound.
"There's a baby."
I stared at the floor beneath the table.
"No."
The sound came again.
A small, desperate cry.
Ewan dropped to his knees.
"Help me move this."
We pushed the wooden table aside.
Nothing.
Then Ewan noticed a narrow metal panel beneath it.
He pried it open.
A hidden compartment appeared.
Inside was a small monitor.
A speaker.
And a red button.
The crying stopped.
Then a woman's voice came through the speaker.
"Connor."
I froze.
Delia.
Her voice was weak.
But unmistakable.
"Don't open anything else."
I grabbed the speaker.
"Where are you?"
"Four years ago, I made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"I stayed silent."
Mara moved closer.
"Delia?"
Silence.
Then Delia whispered:
"I should have told you everything."
Four Years Earlier
Delia's recording began.
"I knew Mara was alive."
The room went silent.
"I knew where she was."
Elena closed her eyes.
"And I knew someone was watching her."
Delia continued.
"I was told that if I spoke, Connor would die."
My stomach tightened.
"Who told you?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Then:
"Your mother."
I looked at Elena.
She shook her head.
"No."
"She told me to stay quiet."
Delia's voice trembled.
"Because she believed Anthony had found out about Mara."
Mara stepped forward.
"Why would she sacrifice me?"
"She didn't."
"Then what happened?"
Delia took a breath.
"Someone intercepted her message."
The recording crackled.
"I was never supposed to be the person who kept silent."
She paused.
"I was supposed to be the person who exposed everything."
The Woman at the Hospital
I remembered the night Delia had been attacked.
The broken glass.
Celeste's scarf.
The blood.
The words:
She knows about Ewan.
At the time, I thought she meant Celeste.
Now I understood.
Delia had been trying to warn me.
But she had been too afraid to say the truth.
"Why did you let Celeste attack you?" I asked.
The speaker remained silent.
Then Delia answered:
"She didn't."
I looked at Elena.
"What?"
"Celeste didn't attack me."
"Then who did?"
Delia whispered:
"Rebecca."
Mara's face went white.
"Rebecca was there?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she wanted the ledger."
I remembered the scarf.
The blood.
The broken glass.
Celeste dragging Delia across the floor.
"So Celeste was protecting you?"
"Yes."
I looked at Elena.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because if I had, Anthony would have known I had failed."
The Real Reason Celeste Became My Fiancée
Delia's recording continued.
"Celeste was instructed to get close to Connor."
I swallowed.
"By Anthony."
"Yes."
"She was supposed to steal my signature."
"Yes."
"And she did?"
"No."
I looked at Elena.
"Then why?"
Delia answered.
"Because she fell in love with him."
Silence.
Mara looked at me.
"That's not the whole story."
I turned toward her.
"What do you mean?"
Mara lowered her voice.
"She didn't know you were her son."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Not at first."
I looked at Elena.
She nodded slowly.
"I discovered it after the engagement."
"You knew?"
"Yes."
"And you still stayed?"
"I was trying to protect you."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Elena looked at me.
"Because it's true."
I didn't know whether to believe her anymore.
The Four Years
Delia explained what had happened after Ewan's disappearance.
"Anthony believed Ewan was dead."
"He wasn't."
"I knew that."
"How?"
"Because I saw him."
"When?"
"Three months after Pier 44."
Ewan stepped closer.
"Where?"
"St. Louis."
His face changed.
"I remember."
Delia continued.
"You were injured."
Ewan nodded.
"You told me to tell Connor you were alive."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because Victor was standing behind you."
Ewan froze.
"He threatened you."
"Yes."
"With what?"
"Your mother."
Elena looked down.
Delia's voice cracked.
"He said if I told Connor, Elena would die."
Ewan whispered:
"I didn't know."
"You weren't supposed to."
The Letter I Never Received
Delia told us about a letter.
A letter Ewan had written to me.
"I gave it to Rebecca."
I stared.
"Rebecca?"
"She promised she would deliver it."
"She never did."
"No."
"Where is it?"
"She destroyed it."
Ewan closed his eyes.
"What did it say?"
Delia was silent.
Then:
"That you were alive."
My chest tightened.
"What else?"
"That you had found your father."
"What did he say about Victor?"
"That he wasn't the enemy."
I looked at Mara.
"Then who was?"
Delia's answer came quietly.
"Anthony."
The Night Delia Tried to Speak
Four years ago, Delia had finally decided to tell me everything.
She had gone to my office.
She had brought documents.
Photographs.
A recording.
The original ledger.
But before she reached the building, her car had been forced off the road.
She survived.
The documents didn't.
"Who attacked you?"
"Rebecca."
"How did you survive?"
"Someone pulled me from the car."
"Who?"
Delia hesitated.
"Ewan."
Ewan stared.
"I saved you?"
"You don't remember."
He shook his head.
"I remember the accident."
"You were unconscious."
"What happened after?"
"You disappeared again."
"Where did I go?"
"To protect Connor."
I looked at my brother.
"From who?"
"Your grandfather."
The Child in the Room
The baby cried again.
We all turned.
Mara looked terrified.
"Why is there a baby here?"
Delia's voice came through the speaker.
"Because that child is the reason I stayed silent."
I stepped toward the hidden compartment.
"What child?"
"A child Anthony believed was dead."
Elena whispered:
"Victor's?"
"No."
Delia's voice became barely audible.
"Connor's."
I stopped breathing.
"What?"
Mara stared at me.
"That's impossible."
Delia continued.
"Four years ago, before the world believed you were engaged to Celeste, you met a woman at the charity hospital."
I searched my memory.
A hospital.
A rainy evening.
A woman with dark hair.
A child.
I remembered nothing beyond a conversation.
But Delia knew.
"You don't remember because your memory was altered."
Ewan's face hardened.
"Who did it?"
"Rebecca."
I stared at the speaker.
"Where is the child?"
Silence.
Then:
"Three floors beneath you."
The Door Beneath the Door
Ewan found another mechanism.
A panel slid open.
A narrow staircase descended.
We followed it.
At the bottom was a small room.
A crib stood in the center.
Inside was a sleeping baby.
I couldn't move.
The baby had dark hair.
A small birthmark above the left eyebrow.
I had the same mark.
My hands began shaking.
Mara whispered:
"Connor..."
I walked toward the crib.
A photograph lay beside the baby.
It showed me.
Four years younger.
Holding the child.
My face was smiling.
I didn't remember taking the photograph.
On the back was a date.
Four years earlier.
And one sentence:
His father doesn't know he's his father.
I looked at Elena.
"Why don't I remember?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
Ewan picked up another document.
His face turned white.
"Connor."
"What?"
"This isn't your child."
I stared.
"What?"
He pointed at the document.
"Look at the mother."
I read the name.
Delia Marie Marlowe.
I turned toward the speaker.
"Delia?"
Her voice came softly.
"Yes."
I stared at the baby.
"Then why did you say it was mine?"
"Because it is."
My mind raced.
"You said I'm the father."
"I said the child is yours."
"How?"
Delia whispered:
"Because four years ago, Rebecca took your biological material without your knowledge."
Silence.
"She used it to create the child."
I felt sick.
"What?"
"She was trying to create an heir."
The Real Conspiracy
Everything suddenly connected.
The trust.
Mara.
Me.
Ewan.
The forged signatures.
The hidden rooms.
Rebecca.
Anthony.
The child.
They weren't fighting over the company.
They were fighting over succession.
Anthony wanted an heir he could control.
Mara was too independent.
Ewan had disappeared.
I had become suspicious.
So they created another heir.
A child whose blood belonged to the Bradley family.
A child they could manipulate from birth.
I looked at the baby.
He opened his eyes.
And somehow...
I knew him.
I had seen those eyes before.
In myself.
In Ewan.
In my father.
I whispered:
"What's his name?"
Delia answered.
"Julian."
Mara moved beside me.
"He's four years old?"
"Yes."
I stared.
"Where has he been?"
"With me."
"All this time?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I couldn't let Rebecca take him."
The Woman Behind the Plan
A door slammed somewhere above us.
Ewan raised his weapon.
"Someone's coming."
Delia's voice became urgent.
"Listen to me."
"What?"
"Rebecca isn't working for Anthony anymore."
I froze.
"What does that mean?"
"She betrayed him."
"Why?"
"Because she discovered something."
"What?"
Delia's breathing became ragged.
"Anthony isn't the one who controls the trust."
I looked at the documents.
"Then who does?"
"Connor."
I laughed once.
"That's impossible."
"No."
"You said Mara was the heir."
"She was."
"What changed?"
"Your father."
"Victor?"
"Yes."
"What did he do?"
"He changed the trust six years ago."
"Why?"
"Because he knew Anthony would eventually kill everyone."
I looked at the trust.
"Then why am I listed as a secondary beneficiary?"
"Because Victor wanted you to inherit only if Mara died."
Mara went silent.
I looked at her.
She understood.
Someone had spent six years trying to make her disappear.
The Final Recording
Delia's voice trembled.
"I kept one recording."
"Where?"
"Inside the nursery."
Mara turned.
"The nursery?"
"Behind the mirror."
We ran upstairs.
The mirror was old.
Ewan pulled it from the wall.
A small recording device was taped behind it.
I pressed play.
Victor's voice filled the room.
"If Connor ever finds this, tell him one thing."
Static.
Then:
"The person he fears most isn't his grandfather."
I looked at Elena.
Victor continued.
"It's the woman who calls herself his mother."
Elena stepped backward.
"No."
The recording continued.
"Because she knows what happened the night Ewan disappeared."
I turned toward her.
"What happened?"
She couldn't answer.
Victor's voice continued.
"She knows who started the fire."
Silence.
Then the final sentence.
"And she knows who pulled me out alive."
The recording stopped.
Nobody moved.
Ewan slowly looked at Elena.
"Mom?"
She was crying.
Mara whispered:
"Who?"
Elena covered her face.
I stepped toward her.
"Who pulled Father out?"
She lowered her hands.
Her eyes met mine.
And for the first time since I had learned her real name...
she looked completely terrified of me.
"It was me."
I stared.
"You saved him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
She shook her head.
"Because I thought he was your father."
"Then what happened?"
She whispered:
"I discovered who he really was."
"And?"
Her voice broke.
"That was the night Ewan disappeared."
Behind us, the baby began crying.
And from somewhere outside the house...
a car engine started.
Ewan looked toward the window.
"We're not alone."
I turned.
A black SUV was waiting at the gate.
Its headlights came on.
Then the rear door opened.
A man stepped out.
Victor.
Alive.
He looked directly at the house.
And raised one hand.
In it was a photograph.
Of me.
Standing beside him.
Four years earlier.
On the night I supposedly forgot.
Victor smiled.
Then he held the photograph against the windshield.
May you like
On the back, written in red ink, were five words:
ASK WHAT YOUR MOTHER DID.
