Chapter 5 - The Hidden Family
Victor Moretti had been dead for twelve years.
But his organization wasn't.
Reed spent the next week dismantling it piece by piece.
Bank accounts.
Shell companies.
Fake charities.
Corrupt contractors.
Nothing directly connected to me.
Until an old accountant found a payment.
A payment made eighteen years ago.
To my mother.
I stared at the document.
“My mother never told me.”
Reed nodded.
“She was protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From the truth.”
That evening, my mother called.
I hadn't spoken to her in six years.
Her voice trembled.
“Mia?”
I almost couldn't answer.
“Mom?”
“I know where you are.”
I looked at Reed.
“How?”
“Because Reed's father promised me something.”
“What?”
“He promised that if anything happened to your father, the Callaways would protect you.”
My throat tightened.
“Then why did you disappear?”
“Because someone threatened to kill you.”
Silence.
“Who?”
“Victor Moretti.”
I closed my eyes.
My mother continued.
“Your father discovered that Victor was using his company to move money. He copied evidence. He planned to expose him.”
“And Reed's father?”
“He tried to help.”
“What happened?”
“Your father died.”
I whispered:
“And Reed?”
“He didn't know.”
I looked at Reed.
He was standing across the room.
Listening.
My mother said:
“Your father left something for you.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
“Where?”
“Inside the old house.”
The call ended.
Two hours later, Reed and I drove there.
The house had been abandoned for years.
Behind a loose brick in the fireplace, we found a metal cylinder.
Inside was a letter.
And a USB drive.
The letter contained only one paragraph.
Mia, if you're reading this, trust the boy with the red mitten. He will become a dangerous man, but never believe that danger means he has lost his heart.
I began crying.
Reed looked away.
“What did he write?”
I handed him the letter.
He read it.
His jaw tightened.
Then he said:
“Your father knew my future better than I did.”
The USB contained financial records.
But one folder was different.
It was labeled:
A.C.
Reed opened it.
Inside was a birth certificate.
My father's name.
My mother's name.
And another name.
Rebecca Callaway.
Reed froze.
“That's my aunt.”
I stared.
“She was married to Victor Moretti.”
Reed looked at me.
The truth unfolded between us.
My father hadn't been killed because he discovered Victor's crimes.
He had been killed because he discovered something even more dangerous.
Victor Moretti and Rebecca Callaway had been secretly moving money through both families.
And my father had threatened to expose them.
But there was another file.
A photograph.
Rebecca.
Holding a baby.
The baby was Reed.
On the back was written:
He must never know who his real father was.
Reed dropped the photograph.
I whispered:
“Reed…”
He stepped away.
“My entire life is a lie.”
I followed him.
“You still have a choice.”
He looked at me.
“What choice?”
“What kind of man you become now.”
His eyes filled with something I had never seen before.
Pain.
He pulled me close.
“I don't know how to do this.”
May you like
“You don't have to do it alone.”
And for the first time, Reed allowed himself to cry.
