Chapter 11 - The Woman in the Vault
I ran.
Marcus shouted after me.
I did not stop.
The underground corridor felt endless.
My shoes struck concrete.
My breath tore through my chest.
Caroline Mercer is inside.
The sentence repeated in my mind.
It was impossible.
My mother would be sixty-one now.
Seventeen years had passed.
Seventeen birthdays.
Seventeen Christmases.
My graduation.
My wedding that never happened.
My career.
My entire adult life.
The communications vault stood behind two reinforced doors.
Eleanor Crowe waited outside.
Her silver-gray gown was stained with dust.
Blood marked her palm.
She looked exhausted.
“Evelyn.”
I stopped ten feet from her.
“Where is she?”
Eleanor looked at Marcus.
“Close the hallway.”
He did.
Only Anna, Lena, Marcus, and I remained.
“Where is my mother?”
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears.
“Before you go inside, you need to understand something.”
“No.”
I stepped forward.
“I have listened to explanations all night.”
“Evelyn.”
“Open the door.”
Eleanor reached toward the keypad.
Her hand shook.
“You may hate her.”
Those words stopped me.
“Why would I hate her?”
“Because she could have come back.”
Something inside me went cold.
“She was alive all these years.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Several places.”
“Why didn’t she come home?”
Eleanor looked directly at me.
“Because Thomas told her that if she contacted you, you would disappear again.”
My throat closed.
“He threatened me.”
“Repeatedly.”
“My grandfather died nine years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t she come back nine years ago?”
Eleanor hesitated.
That hesitation hurt worse than anything else.
“Open the door.”
She entered the code.
Heavy locks disengaged.
The door opened slowly.
The room beyond was not a prison.
It was a command center.
Computer screens lined the walls.
Boxes of documents filled metal shelves.
Maps covered a long table.
And sitting in front of one screen was an older woman with dark hair streaked with silver.
She stood when she saw me.
Her hand covered her mouth.
I knew her immediately.
Time had changed her face.
Not her eyes.
My knees nearly gave out.
“Mom?”
She began crying.
Not loudly.
No dramatic scream.
Just tears falling as she stared at the daughter she had abandoned to survive.
“Evie.”
Nobody had called me that since I was sixteen.
I took one step.
Then stopped.
Part of me wanted to run into her arms.
Another part wanted answers.
“You were alive.”
“I was.”
“You knew where I was?”
“Yes.”
“You watched me grow up?”
Her face broke.
“Yes.”
Anger rose through the grief.
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You let me visit an empty grave.”
“I know.”
“You let Dad lie to me.”
Her eyes changed.
“Your father didn’t know.”
The room became silent.
I stared at her.
“What?”
Caroline wiped her tears.
“Richard believes I died nine years ago.”
I felt dizzy.
“Dad knew you survived the crash.”
“For eight years.”
“And then?”
She looked toward the monitors.
“Then someone found me.”
“Who?”
May you like
My mother whispered.
“The same person who has been helping Gavin tonight.”
