Chapter 13 - THE GRANDMOTHER WHO NEVER DIED
Nobody moved.
Zara grabbed my arm.
Amelia whispered:
“Justin…”
I couldn't speak.
The woman walked toward me.
She looked exactly like the photographs.
My grandmother.
Evelyn Lane.
The woman my family had buried decades ago.
“You're dead,” I whispered.
She smiled.
“That's what they wanted you to believe.”
My mother stepped forward.
“You survived.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“Barely.”
“You knew where I was?”
“I knew where everyone was.”
I stared at the seven people.
“You created the alliance.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed my family.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Your family destroyed itself.”
I clenched my fists.
“Why bring me here?”
“Because your father left something behind.”
“What?”
She pointed toward a steel door.
“The truth.”
The door opened.
Inside was an underground archive.
Boxes.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Video tapes.
Documents.
Decades of evidence.
My father had been collecting everything.
Evelyn explained that he had planned to expose the seven families.
But before he could, he was killed.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you stop them?”
“Because I was building a case.”
“For twenty years?”
“Yes.”
I looked around.
“How many people died because you waited?”
Her expression hardened.
“Too many.”
I hated her.
But I understood.
She hadn't been innocent.
None of them were.
Then I found a file marked:
ZARA BENNETT.
I opened it.
Inside were photographs of Zara from college.
Her first job.
Her apartment.
Her pregnancy.
Prince's birth.
My blood boiled.
“They watched her.”
Evelyn nodded.
“For years.”
“Why?”
“Because your father believed Zara was the only person who could reach you.”
I looked at Zara.
She was crying.
My grandmother continued.
“Your father knew you would never abandon your own child if you knew the truth.”
“But I did.”
“You were manipulated.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I made the choice.”
Zara stepped beside me.
“You made the wrong choice.”
She took my hand.
“But you came back.”
I looked at her.
That was enough.
Then Evelyn opened a final file.
Inside was a photograph.
A woman.
Young.
Beautiful.
Holding a baby.
I stared.
“Who is that?”
Evelyn's voice softened.
“Your father's first wife.”
I froze.
“My father was married before Mom?”
“Yes.”
“And the baby?”
She looked at me.
“Your half-brother.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where is he?”
Evelyn's expression became grim.
“That's why I brought you here.”
She placed another photograph on the table.
A man in his thirties.
Standing beside Victor Hale.
Alive.
May you like
My half-brother had been working with the enemy.
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