Chapter 8 - THE LAST THING EVELYN HID
Adrian's words hung in the room.
Neither was Nora.
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer immediately.
He picked up the recent train ticket.
“Someone wanted you gone.”
“Why?”
“Because you found the frame.”
Wren nodded.
“And because you noticed something nobody else did.”
“What?”
“You noticed Adrian.”
I looked at him.
Wren's expression was strangely sad.
“Your mother knew that would matter.”
Adrian walked to the window.
For the first time, he looked less like the feared man everyone described.
He looked like a son.
A son who had spent half his life believing the wrong story.
He turned.
“We're going to 30th Street Station.”
Grant immediately said, “No.”
Adrian stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because someone wants us to go there.”
“Exactly.”
“That could be a trap.”
“It could also be the only thing my mother left me.”
Victor nodded.
“He's right.”
Grant looked at him.
“You're enjoying this.”
“No.”
Victor looked toward the bracelet.
“I've been waiting twenty years for the truth.”
They left the mansion together.
The seven women remained behind with two security guards.
Caroline approached Adrian before he left.
“My father kept a box.”
Adrian stopped.
“What kind?”
“Small wooden box.”
“What was inside?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is it?”
“My father's house.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Why tell me?”
“Because I think he was afraid of the same person.”
She hesitated.
“And because I chose the painting tonight.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“Honesty counts more than the choice.”
Caroline nodded.
For the first time that night, she looked embarrassed rather than entitled.
At the station, Adrian used the brass key.
Locker 214 opened with a metallic click.
Inside was no fortune.
No secret money.
No weapon.
Only a navy envelope.
A photograph.
A child's drawing.
A broken watch.
And a folded piece of blue fabric.
Adrian picked up the photograph.
Evelyn stood beside a young boy.
Eddie.
But there was another person in the picture.
Adrian stared.
“That's my father.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
Adrian looked closer.
The man beside Eddie wore Malcolm Vale's coat.
But the face was different.
It was Richard Vale.
Adrian's uncle.
The man supposedly dead before Adrian was born.
I looked at the photograph.
“Why was he with Eddie?”
Victor answered.
“Because Richard was the one who found him.”
Adrian turned.
“You knew?”
“No.”
Victor looked devastated.
“I thought Malcolm had found him.”
Adrian opened the envelope.
Inside was Evelyn's final letter.
The handwriting was shaky.
Adrian, if you ever find this, you must know that your father did not kill me.
Adrian stopped breathing.
Grant closed his eyes.
I read over his shoulder.
He tried to protect me. Richard betrayed us both.
The next line was worse.
But Richard did not act alone.
Adrian's hand trembled.
The letter continued.
The person behind him is someone you trust. Someone who will stand beside you when you read this.
Everyone froze.
Adrian looked at Grant.
Grant looked back.
Then Adrian shook his head.
“No.”
I looked at Victor.
He seemed confused too.
Evelyn had written one final sentence.
Do not blame the man who stayed. Ask why he was allowed to stay.
Adrian looked at Grant.
“What does that mean?”
Grant's face had gone pale.
“I don't know.”
Then the broken watch caught my attention.
I picked it up.
The back had been engraved.
G.M.
Grant stared at it.
Adrian looked between us.
“Grant Mercer.”
Grant stepped backward.
“No.”
Adrian's voice was cold.
“Why does my mother's watch have your initials?”
Grant's face collapsed.
“I didn't kill her.”
“Then explain.”
“I was there.”
The words hit the room.
Adrian froze.
“When?”
“The night she died.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Grant continued.
“I followed her because she asked me to.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your mother made me promise.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Grant looked at Nora.
“I found her by the river.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Adrian's breath caught.
“What did you do?”
“I tried to get her away.”
“And?”
Grant's eyes filled with tears.
“Richard arrived.”
Adrian stopped.
Grant whispered—
“He wasn't alone.”
“Who was with him?”
Grant looked toward the photograph.
Then toward Adrian.
“The man your mother trusted most.”
A sound came from behind us.
The station lights flickered.
Victor turned.
Someone had entered the platform.
An older man.
Gray coat.
Walking slowly.
Adrian stared.
The man's face was older.
But unmistakable.
Richard Vale.
Adrian's dead uncle.
Richard stopped twenty feet away.
May you like
And smiled.
“Hello, nephew.”
