Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF MY FATHER'S LIFE
The message arrived at 11:43 P.M.
By midnight, Adrian Blackthorne had turned his mansion into a war room.
Men in black suits filled the underground security center.
Phones rang.
Maps appeared on screens.
And every time someone mentioned my father's name, my heart seemed to stop.
I stood beside the table, still wearing my bloodstained uniform.
"Where is he?"
Nobody answered.
"Where is my father?"
Adrian looked up.
"We're searching."
"That's not an answer."
"No," he admitted. "It isn't."
I hated how calm he sounded.
My father had a serious heart condition.
He needed medication.
Monitoring.
Insulin.
He couldn't simply disappear into the night.
"Whoever took him knows he's sick," I said.
Adrian's eyes darkened.
"Yes."
"Then they know he could die."
Silence.
I pressed my hands against the table.
"Please."
The word came out smaller than I intended.
"He's all I have."
Adrian stepped closer.
"You have my word. I'll bring him home."
I wanted to believe him.
But promises didn't keep people alive.
Evidence did.
And I needed something more than his reputation.
"Why would anyone want me?" I asked.
Adrian glanced toward the photograph of my father.
"Because Daniel knows where something valuable was hidden."
"What?"
"We don't know."
Marco entered carrying a laptop.
"Boss, we recovered part of an old encrypted file from Robert Blackthorne's private archive."
Adrian motioned for him to continue.
"The file mentions a project called Nightingale."
Evelyn, who had been sitting quietly nearby, suddenly dropped her teacup.
It shattered.
"Nightingale," she whispered.
Adrian rushed to her.
"Mother?"
Her face had gone pale.
"Robert told me never to say that word."
"Why?"
She looked at me.
"Because people died."
A terrible silence followed.
Then Evelyn began crying.
I knelt beside her.
"Mrs. Blackthorne, it's okay."
She grabbed my hands.
"Your mother tried to stop them."
My breath caught.
"My mother?"
"Rebecca was brave. So brave."
Adrian crouched beside us.
"What happened to Rebecca?"
Evelyn stared at the floor.
"They said it was an accident."
My chest tightened.
My mother had died in a highway collision when I was eight.
A truck had crossed the center line.
That was what my father told me.
Every year, we visited her grave.
Every year, Dad said the same thing.
"Some accidents change everything."
Now I wondered whether he'd been lying to protect me.
Adrian's phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
A distorted voice filled the room.
"Mr. Blackthorne."
Adrian's expression went cold.
"Who is this?"
"Someone holding something you want."
"Daniel Quinn."
"Very good."
I stepped forward.
"Let me speak to him."
The voice laughed.
"Ah. Harper."
Adrian raised a warning hand.
But I couldn't stop.
"Please. My father needs medical care."
"He'll receive it if you cooperate."
"What do you want?"
"A key."
Adrian exchanged a look with Marco.
"What key?" he demanded.
"The one Robert Blackthorne gave Daniel Quinn."
"I don't know anything about a key," I said.
"Then perhaps your father should have told you the truth."
A muffled sound came through the phone.
Then a weak voice.
"Harper?"
"Dad!"
"Sweetheart, listen carefully."
I started crying.
"Dad, where are you?"
"Don't trust—"
A sharp noise interrupted him.
Someone had struck him.
I screamed.
The distorted voice returned.
"You have twenty-four hours."
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then I looked at Adrian.
"I'll do whatever they want."
"No."
"He's my father!"
"And you're exactly what they're trying to get."
I stared at him.
"You can't order me to stop loving him."
Something changed in Adrian's eyes.
He lowered his voice.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Marco suddenly spoke.
"Boss, we found something."
He enlarged an image from the hospital security system.
A man in medical scrubs was pushing a wheelchair through a service exit.
The patient was my father.
But the man pushing him wasn't a stranger.
I recognized him immediately.
Dr. Nathan Cole.
May you like
My father's cardiologist.
And the man who had been treating him for the past three years.
