Chapter 12 - THE GIRL ADRIAN FORGOT
The next morning, Adrian took Claire to Blackridge.
He did not want her there.
That was exactly why she insisted.
“You're not going alone.”
“Claire—”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I've spent my entire life being told I wasn't important enough to know the truth about my own family.”
Adrian said nothing.
She stepped closer.
“This time, I'm coming.”
Blackridge stood two hours outside Chicago.
The property had once belonged to Adrian's grandfather.
Now it was abandoned.
The house looked almost burned from the inside.
Broken windows.
Blackened walls.
Collapsed ceilings.
Adrian remembered almost nothing.
That frightened him more than remembering everything would have.
Claire walked beside him.
“Does anything look familiar?”
“No.”
They entered the old study.
Adrian found an antique desk.
Inside the drawer was another photograph.
He lifted it.
Claire gasped.
It was the same photograph from the greenhouse.
But now Adrian remembered something.
A girl.
A summer storm.
A red bicycle.
And a promise.
“You came back,” the girl had said.
Adrian closed his eyes.
More memories surfaced.
He had been fourteen.
His father had taken him to Blackridge.
Claire had been there because her mother worked for the Moretti family.
The two children had become friends.
Then one night they heard shouting.
Adrian remembered hiding beneath a staircase with Claire.
He remembered her crying.
He remembered holding her hand.
Then a door slammed.
Someone had found them.
A man had dragged Adrian away.
The next memory was waking in a hospital.
His father had told him Claire had moved away.
Adrian opened his eyes.
“She didn't leave.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
“You were here.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from upstairs.
Both froze.
Adrian motioned for Claire to stay behind him.
They climbed slowly.
A bedroom door stood open.
Inside was a child's wooden trunk.
Claire recognized it.
“My mother had one like this.”
Adrian opened it.
Inside were letters.
Hundreds.
All addressed to Claire.
None had ever been delivered.
Claire picked one up.
Her hands trembled.
The first letter was dated eighteen years ago.
Dear Claire,
I don't know if you'll remember me. But I remember you.
Your father told me I must never contact you. He said it was for your safety.
Claire's eyes filled with tears.
Adrian read over her shoulder.
The letters were written by Adrian.
He had spent years believing Claire had forgotten him.
She had never received a single letter.
Then they found a final envelope.
It contained a newspaper clipping.
A young woman had died in a suspicious house fire.
Margaret Bennett.
Claire's mother.
Claire dropped the paper.
“No.”
Adrian caught her.
“Claire.”
“My mother died of an accident.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“No.”
He pointed to the article.
The fire had occurred at Blackridge.
The official report stated electrical failure.
But the photograph of the house showed something else.
The fire had started in three separate rooms.
Someone had wanted the house destroyed.
Claire whispered, “Why?”
A voice answered from behind them.
“Because your mother found out who ordered it.”
Adrian turned.
An elderly man stood in the doorway.
He held no weapon.
He didn't need one.
Adrian recognized him.
“Thomas.”
Thomas Moretti.
His father's former attorney.
Everyone had believed he was dead.
Adrian's hand moved toward his weapon.
Thomas raised both hands.
“I didn't come to fight.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To tell you the truth before someone else kills you.”
Claire stepped forward.
“You knew my mother?”
Thomas looked at her.
“I helped her hide you.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
Thomas sighed.
“Your mother discovered that Adrian's father had been using the family business to move money through shell companies. She wanted to expose him.”
Adrian's face hardened.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Thomas continued.
“And when your mother refused to cooperate, they threatened her.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked directly at Adrian.
“Your uncle.”
Silence filled the room.
Adrian's uncle had died twelve years earlier.
Or so everyone believed.
Thomas lowered his voice.
“He isn't dead.”
A car engine roared outside.
Thomas's expression changed.
“They found us.”
The windows exploded.
Adrian pushed Claire to the floor.
Gunfire tore through the room.
Thomas disappeared through a side door.
Adrian dragged Claire toward the stairs.
“Run!”
They escaped through the basement.
But before leaving, Adrian saw something on the wall.
A child's drawing.
Two children holding hands.
Underneath it were four words written in blue crayon.
Adrian promised he'd return.
Claire looked at him.
“You did.”
Adrian stared at her.
“No.”
May you like
He touched her face.
“I was too late.”
