“Your father left something that doesn't belong to you.”
Emma's blood went cold.
“Who are you?”
“You should ask Richard Weston why he waited so long.”
The call ended.
Emma looked at her mother.
“They know.”
Diana nodded.
“I know.”
Emma stood.
“Then we find out what my father left.”
“How?”
Emma looked at the key.
“Room 417.”
Diana's face changed.
“What?”
Emma turned the key over.
On the back was a tiny symbol.
A hotel logo.
The Riverside Hotel.
Diana whispered:
“No.”
“What?”
“That hotel was where Michael and I first met Richard.”
Emma grabbed her coat.
“Then that's where we're going.”
They drove through the night.
At 1:15 a.m., they arrived at the old Riverside Hotel.
The building was scheduled for demolition.
The lobby was empty.
Emma showed the key to the night security guard.
He looked at it.
“That's an old storage key.”
“Room 417?”
“Fourth floor.”
The elevator was broken.
They climbed stairs.
The fourth floor smelled of dust.
Emma found room 417.
The door was locked.
She inserted the key.
Click.
The door opened.
Inside was nothing.
Just an empty room.
Emma frowned.
Then she noticed the wall.
There was a small rectangular section where the paint looked newer.
She touched it.
The panel moved.
Behind it was a metal safe.
The key opened it.
Inside were files.
Photographs.
A flash drive.
And a handwritten letter.
Emma unfolded it.
My daughter,
She stopped.
Her father was speaking to her again.
If you are reading this, then I failed to come home.
Emma began to cry.
I need you to know that I did not leave you. I fought to come back.
Diana stood behind her, crying silently.
The letter continued.
The people responsible believe the evidence is about money. It isn't. Money is only the trail. The real secret is the list of people who helped them.
Emma's hands trembled.
Then she read the final line.
Richard knows where the original list is. But do not trust him until he tells you about my daughter.
Emma stopped.
Her heart slammed.
“My daughter?”
Diana looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
Before either woman could answer, the lights went out.
The Second Secret
The room went completely dark.
Emma heard Diana gasp.
Then footsteps.
Outside.
Someone was coming down the hallway.
Emma grabbed the flash drive.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
“Stay behind me.”
“I'm not letting you do this alone.”
The door handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
Emma held her breath.
A voice came from the hallway.
“Emma.”
She recognized it.
The man from the hospital.
“Open the door.”
Diana whispered:
“Don't.”
Emma looked around.
There was another door behind the bathroom.
She opened it.
A narrow service corridor.
“Come on.”
They ran.
The corridor led to a stairwell.
They descended three floors before hearing shouting above them.
They exited through the basement.
A security guard saw them.
“What's happening?”
Emma didn't stop.
“Call the police.”
They reached the parking lot.
Their car was gone.
Emma stared.
“That's impossible.”
Diana grabbed her arm.
“Keep moving.”
They walked four blocks before finding a taxi.
Only after they were inside did Emma look at the flash drive.
“Who was that man?”
Diana shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
Emma turned toward the window.
She was beginning to understand something.
Everyone around her had been protecting her from the truth.
But protection had become another form of imprisonment.
The next morning, Emma returned to the hospital.
Richard was awake.
She entered his room without knocking.
“You have a daughter.”
Richard stared at her.
His face became completely still.
Emma placed the letter on his bed.
“My father mentioned her.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“I was hoping you wouldn't learn that this way.”
“Who is she?”
“My daughter.”
“Her name?”
Richard didn't answer.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
He looked at Emma.
“Dale Mercer has her.”
Emma's heart stopped.
“What?”
Richard explained.
Twenty-seven years ago, Mercer had discovered that Richard had a secret daughter from a previous marriage.
The child had been taken as leverage.
Richard had spent years secretly searching for her.
Then he found her.
Her name was Olivia.
She was now twenty-five.
She had no idea who her biological father was.
Mercer had kept her identity hidden because he knew Richard would never stop looking.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Michael knew.”
“What did Michael know?”
“He knew that Olivia was alive.”
Emma stared.
“Why?”
“Because Michael was helping me find her.”
Richard's voice broke.
“The night he died, he was carrying proof of her identity.”
Emma understood.
“Mercer killed him because he thought Michael had the evidence.”
“Yes.”
“And the list?”
Richard nodded.
“The list contains everyone involved in Olivia's disappearance.”
Emma felt dizzy.
“So my father died protecting your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Why did my father care?”
Richard looked at her.
“Because he was that kind of man.”
Emma's eyes filled.
“Where is Olivia?”
“We don't know.”
Richard pulled a photograph from his bedside drawer.
A young woman.
Twenty-five.
Brown hair.
Green eyes.
A small scar near her eyebrow.
Emma stared.
“She looks…”
“Like you?”
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
Then she looked again.