Chapter 11 - THE REAL ENEMY
The forged account led us to a private bank in Switzerland.
The bank refused to cooperate until the federal government intervened.
Inside the account were records dating back twenty-two years.
Every transfer.
Every payment.
Every bribe.
Every secret.
And one name appeared more than any other.
Not Jonathan.
Not my mother.
Not my grandmother.
A man named Samuel Whitmore.
Anna's father.
Sophie's grandfather.
I stared at the records.
"Why would Anna's father be involved?"
My mother looked horrified.
"Because he was the one who started it."
We discovered Samuel had partnered with my grandmother before my father ever met Anna.
He had manipulated land acquisitions.
Created shell corporations.
Bribed officials.
And when Richard discovered everything, Samuel threatened to expose him.
But there was something worse.
Samuel had a son.
Anna's brother.
Daniel.
My attorney.
The man who had spent years beside me.
The man who had access to everything.
The man who had forged my signature.
I felt sick.
"Where is Daniel?"
Jonathan looked at me.
"We need to find him before he finds Sophie."
The search led us to an abandoned farmhouse outside Rockford.
We arrived at midnight.
The house was empty.
Except for a child's drawing on the floor.
Three people holding hands.
Me.
Sophie.
Anna.
On the back, written in childish handwriting:
Family.
Sophie picked it up.
"Mom made me draw this."
I hugged her.
Then we heard a sound upstairs.
A door slammed.
I ran.
Daniel was standing at the window.
He held Anna.
She was weak.
Barely conscious.
"Let her go."
Daniel smiled.
"You still don't understand."
"You kidnapped Anna."
"No."
He shook his head.
"She came willingly."
Anna whispered,
"Michael..."
Daniel pressed a gun against her shoulder.
"You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Your father didn't die because of your grandmother."
I froze.
"He died because of me."
Daniel smiled.
"My father ordered it."
"Why?"
"Because Richard discovered the trust."
"What did he know?"
"That Sophie wasn't his only secret child."
I stared at him.
"What?"
Daniel laughed.
"There was another."
My mother stepped forward.
"That's impossible."
Daniel looked at her.
"You should know."
Then he revealed the final photograph.
A baby.
A hospital bracelet.
And beneath it:
Michael Harrison Jr.
I stared at the photograph.
My name.
My face.
But I had no memory of this.
Daniel smiled.
May you like
"Your father had a third child."
And suddenly, Anna began screaming.
