Chapter 19 - THE THIRTEENTH HEIRThe attack lasted ninety seconds.
Smoke.
Broken glass.
Gunfire.
When the lights returned, Voss was gone.
Not rescued.
Taken.
Two of his guards were dead.
A message remained on his chair.
THE OLD CIRCLE IS FINISHED.
Beneath it:
THIRTEEN REMAIN.
Twelve heirs.
Plus Caleb.
Thirteen.
We returned to Blackthorne with Evelyn and Lydia.
For the first time in decades, mother and daughter slept beneath the same roof.
Neither slept much.
Neither did I.
At 3:00 a.m., I found Caleb in the kitchen.
He was making grilled cheese.
Badly.
“You're burning it.”
“It's artisanal.”
“It's charcoal.”
He looked at me.
“Am I one of them?”
I knew what he meant.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Because of your name.”
“I didn't choose my name.”
“No.”
“Mom said I don't owe anyone the Mercer name.”
“She was right.”
He stared at the burning sandwich.
“What if they come anyway?”
“They will.”
He looked up.
I didn't lie to Caleb.
Not anymore.
“But you're not facing them alone.”
He smiled slightly.
“You took bullets for me once.”
“Three.”
“You always mention the number.”
“I worked hard for those scars.”
He laughed.
Then became serious.
“I don't want Dad killing people because of me.”
That sentence broke my heart.
“He doesn't want that either.”
“Would he?”
I thought carefully.
“Yes.”
Caleb looked down.
“But loving someone doesn't mean every instinct love creates is good.”
He nodded.
“Dad says you make everything complicated.”
“Your father once solved problems by throwing men through windows.”
“Did he really?”
“That is not the part of the conversation you were supposed to enjoy.”
The next morning, Evelyn gave us the list.
Twelve names.
Ages thirteen to twenty-two.
Children of powerful families.
Some knew nothing.
Others had already been approached.
One name stood out.
Sophie Voss.
Charles Voss's granddaughter.
Age fifteen.
Same school as Caleb.
Caleb stared.
“I know her.”
Of course he did.
Sophie was quiet.
Brilliant.
Frequently alone.
Caleb had shared classes with her for two years.
“Has she ever asked about your family?” Dominic asked.
“No.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“Business?”
“No.”
Caleb hesitated.
“She asked about Mom once.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“What did you tell her?”
“That she died.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
Then Caleb remembered.
Three weeks earlier, Sophie had given him a book.
A copy of The Secret Garden.
My father's book.
Every hair on my arms rose.
“Where is it?”
Caleb ran upstairs.
He returned carrying it.
Inside the cover was a handwritten message.
SOME DOORS ONLY OPEN WHEN YOU REMEMBER WHERE YOU CAME FROM.
My father's exact words.
Sophie Voss knew about Nathaniel.
We contacted the school.
She had not attended that day.
Her home was empty.
Her parents claimed she was visiting relatives.
She wasn't.
At noon, Caleb received a message.
From Sophie.
I'M SORRY.
Then:
MY GRANDFATHER LIED TO ALL OF US.
A location followed.
Central Park.
Dominic said absolutely not.
Caleb went anyway.
With us.
Sophie sat alone on a bench.
She looked fifteen.
Because she was.
Not an operative.
Not an heir.
A frightened girl.
Caleb approached.
“What happened?”
She looked at him.
“My grandfather is dead.”
We froze.
“How do you know?”
“They sent me the video.”
Her hands shook.
“They said it's my turn now.”
Caleb sat beside her.
Sophie began crying.
“I don't want his life.”
Caleb answered quietly:
“Neither do I.”
Across the park, I saw Dominic watching his son.
And understood something.
The Circle had made one enormous mistake.
May you like
It believed inheritance was destiny.
These children were about to prove otherwise.
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