Chapter 9 - THE SISTER WHO WASN'T WHO I THOUGHT
"Vanessa."
My sister raised both hands.
"Mom, don't."
Mom's voice was calm.
"You sold three files."
Vanessa's face changed.
"Only three."
Dad looked devastated.
"You don't understand what those files contained."
"I needed money."
"You sold people's lives."
"I saved yours!"
Mom shook her head.
"You sold the location of the archive."
Vanessa looked at me.
"I didn't know."
Mom answered:
"You knew enough."
I stepped between them.
"Stop."
Everyone went silent.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Tell me the truth."
She cried.
"I made one mistake."
"How many?"
"Three."
She admitted she had sold information to Kane.
But there was something else.
She had never forged Dad's signature.
The signature had been created by someone else.
Someone with access to Dad's medical records and old legal documents.
Someone who knew exactly how he signed.
Mom.
I looked at her.
She didn't deny it.
"I forged the signature," Mom said.
Dad stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because I needed Kane to believe the property was being transferred."
She had created the document as bait.
Kane had taken it.
The cellar imprisonment had been part of a larger plan.
But the plan had failed when Michael came home early.
Mom looked at me.
"You weren't supposed to be here."
"I came home for Christmas."
"I know."
She smiled sadly.
"Your father always wanted you home."
Dad's eyes filled with tears.
Then the archive lights went out.
A voice echoed through the chamber.
"Family reunion."
Victor Kane.
Men emerged from the shadows.
We were surrounded.
Kane stepped forward.
"Thank you for finding the archive."
Mom raised her gun.
Kane laughed.
"You won't shoot."
"Try me."
He pointed toward me.
Two men grabbed my arms.
Mom lowered the weapon.
Kane smiled.
"That's better."
He walked to the central table.
"Your father spent thirty years protecting this place."
He opened a box.
"But he never understood the truth."
Dad asked:
"What truth?"
Kane looked at me.
"The archive was never your grandfather's."
He pulled out an old photograph.
It showed a government facility.
"Your grandfather stole it."
I stared.
"Stole what?"
"Evidence from an intelligence operation."
Mom whispered:
"He's lying."
Kane smiled.
"Am I?"
He handed me a document.
My name was on it.
I read the first line.
PROJECT WINTER HOUSE.
Then another line.
Primary family asset: Michael Bennett.
My hands went numb.
"What's this?"
Kane smiled.
"Your family didn't spend twelve years protecting you."
May you like
He leaned closer.
"They were protecting the archive from you."
