Chapter 6
We were moved before sunrise.
No arguments.
No delays.
Lena, Maya, and I were taken to a secure federal facility outside the city.
I barely processed any of it.
My father was alive.
After nineteen years of grief.
After a funeral.
After anger.
After an entire adulthood built around absence.
Alive.
But I couldn't see him yet.
He had been dehydrated, bruised, and heavily medicated.
Doctors wanted him stabilized.
Police wanted a statement.
Security wanted confirmation the facility was safe.
Every reasonable explanation made me angrier.
Lena sat beside me.
"Isaiah."
"What?"
"You're shaking."
I looked at my hands.
She was right.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to say to him."
"You don't have to know."
"I buried him."
"I know."
"I hated myself for things I never said before he died."
"I know."
"Then he wasn't dead."
Lena touched my arm.
"And he lost nineteen years too."
I pulled away before anger turned unfair.
"He chose some of them."
She didn't deny it.
"Yes."
That mattered.
My father was a victim.
He was also a man who chose secrecy again and again.
Both could be true.
Maya entered carrying hot chocolate.
"Is your dad okay?"
"They say yes."
"Are you mad at him?"
Children had no patience for polite avoidance.
"Yeah."
"Are you happy?"
"Yeah."
She nodded seriously.
"You can be both."
I looked at Lena.
She smiled faintly.
"Smart kid."
"I know."
Two hours later, Hollis came for me.
"Samuel is asking for you."
My legs felt strangely weak.
I followed him through two security doors.
Then another.
A hospital-style room waited at the end.
I stopped in the doorway.
My father sat in bed.
Thin.
Gray beard.
Deep lines across his face.
But it was him.
Samuel Brooks.
My father.
He looked at me.
His eyes filled instantly.
"Bell."
That destroyed me.
Nobody had called me that since childhood.
I crossed the room.
Then stopped beside the bed.
For years, I imagined this impossible reunion.
In some versions I hugged him.
In others, I screamed.
Instead, I stood there unable to move.
He whispered, "I'm sorry."
My eyes burned.
"That's what you have?"
His face crumpled.
"No."
"Nineteen years."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
My voice rose.
"I buried an empty coffin."
Tears rolled down his face.
"I know."
"I thought you were dead."
"I know."
"I needed you."
He closed his eyes.
"I know."
I hated those words.
"Stop saying that."
He nodded.
"Okay."
Silence filled the room.
Finally I asked, "Why didn't you come home?"
"At first?"
"All of it."
He breathed slowly.
"The crash was staged because Thomas Reid convinced me Victor would kill you and your mother if I testified publicly."
"So you disappeared."
"Yes."
"The case collapsed."
"Yes."
"Why not return?"
"Reid told me Victor had people watching you."
"He was corrupt."
"I didn't know yet."
"When did you find out?"
"Months later."
"Then?"
"I tried to contact you."
My chest tightened.
"What happened?"
"Reid intercepted it."
"How do you know?"
"Angela told me."
I stared.
"Angela Reid?"
He nodded.
"She said her father had manipulated everything."
"And you trusted her."
"For a while."
I laughed bitterly.
"Seems genetic."
Dad accepted that.
"Maybe."
"What happened seventeen years ago?"
"Lena found me."
He looked toward the door.
"She was relentless."
"She thought you died that night."
"Almost did."
"Who shot you?"
"Victor."
My jaw clenched.
"Robert?"
"Led him there."
"Why did you survive?"
"Angela."
I stared.
"She saved you?"
"Yes."
"But she works for Victor."
"Now."
"Why?"
Dad looked exhausted.
"Because Victor had evidence her father was corrupt."
"He blackmailed her."
"At first."
"And later?"
"Money changes fear into loyalty faster than people like to admit."
I thought about Robert.
About Richard.
About everyone.
"Where have you been?"
"Moving."
"For seventeen years?"
"No."
He looked ashamed.
"For about nine."
My anger returned.
"What happened after that?"
"I decided you were safer believing I was dead."
I laughed once.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The protection excuse."
He flinched.
"I deserve that."
"You could've found me."
"Yes."
"You could've told me."
"Yes."
"You chose not to."
"Yes."
That honesty stopped me.
He looked at me.
"I watched you from far away."
"The laptop photos."
He nodded.
"You were at Mom's funeral?"
His face broke.
"Across the street."
My anger exploded.
"You watched me bury her alone?"
"I was there."
"You were across a street!"
"I know."
"She died thinking you were dead!"
"No."
I stopped.
"What?"
Dad looked down.
"Your mother knew."
I couldn't breathe.
"How long?"
"Seven years."
I backed away.
"No."
"Isaiah."
"No."
"She found me."
"When?"
"After her cancer diagnosis."
Mom died five years ago after two years of treatment.
"You saw her?"
"Twice."
Everything inside me cracked.
"She didn't tell me."
"She promised."
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course she did."
Everyone had promised everyone except me.
Dad started crying.
"She begged me to come home."
"And?"
"I was afraid."
There it was.
Not protection.
Fear.
He finally called it what it was.
"I told her Victor would use me to reach you."
"Maybe."
"She told me I was using danger as an excuse because I was ashamed."
I closed my eyes.
Mom had known exactly who he was.
"She was right."
"Yes."
I sat down.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then Dad whispered, "I don't expect forgiveness."
"Good."
"I only wanted a chance to tell you myself."
"You're getting it."
"I was a coward."
The word sounded painful coming from him.
"I helped Victor build the system."
"I read your letter."
"I stayed longer than I should have."
"I know."
"I paid Robert."
"I know."
"I disappeared when truth became dangerous."
"I know."
He looked at me.
"And every year I stayed gone made coming back harder."
I understood that too well from Lena.
Fear created distance.
Shame maintained it.
Then decades passed.
"What changed eight months ago?"
"I found evidence Angela was preparing to eliminate the last records."
"So you went to the cabin."
"Yes."
"You uploaded the video."
"Yes."
"Then?"
"Victor found me."
"Through Angela?"
Dad nodded.
"She betrayed me."
Again.
"Why didn't he kill you?"
"He still needed the ledger."
"Lena had it."
"He didn't know."
"So he kept you."
"Until you opened the station vault."
My chest tightened.
"Then he knew the evidence had surfaced."
"Yes."
"Where is Victor now?"
Dad looked frightened.
"He'll go after leverage."
"Maya."
"Or Lena."
My hands clenched.
Then Dad looked at me.
"Or you."
I almost smiled.
"He's welcome to try."
Dad's expression hardened.
"That attitude is exactly what gets men killed."
"There he is."
"What?"
"Trying to decide what I can handle."
He stopped.
I leaned forward.
"You're not protecting me anymore."
His eyes filled.
"I know."
"You tell me everything."
"Okay."
"No hidden plans."
"Okay."
"No disappearing."
His voice cracked.
"Never again."
I wanted to believe him.
I wasn't ready.
But I wanted to.
The door opened.
Hollis stepped inside.
"Victor Hale has been located."
I stood.
"Where?"
"Richmond."
"Doing what?"
"His private jet was preparing to depart."
"Was he arrested?"
Hollis's expression tightened.
"He wasn't at the airport."
"Then what?"
"The flight was a distraction."
My stomach sank.
"What did he do?"
"We found one of his vehicles near the safe house you were originally scheduled to use."
Dad went pale.
"He knew."
Hollis nodded.
"Someone inside law enforcement leaked the address."
Silence.
The corruption wasn't over.
"Do you know who?"
"Not yet."
Dad looked at Hollis carefully.
Then at me.
"Victor always keeps someone inside."
Hollis didn't take offense.
"That's why you're being moved again."
I thought of Maya.
"Where is she?"
"With Lena."
"Safe?"
"For now."
I hated those words.
Then an alarm sounded.
Not fire.
Security.
Hollis touched his radio.
Voices exploded.
"Unauthorized vehicle at south gate."
My blood went cold.
Dad tried to get out of bed.
I stopped him.
"What are you doing?"
"Same thing you are."
"You're barely standing."
"Still your father."
Despite everything, something in me almost smiled.
Then Hollis's radio crackled.
"Vehicle stopped."
Pause.
"One occupant."
Another pause.
"Female."
Dad's expression changed.
"Angela."
Hollis listened.
Then nodded.
"Angela Reid."
My hands clenched.
"Why is she here?"
Hollis looked at us.
"She's asking to surrender."
Dad laughed bitterly.
"Nothing Angela does is simple."
The radio continued.
"She says she has information about Hale."
Hollis headed toward the door.
Then stopped.
"She specifically asked for Isaiah."
I stared.
"Why me?"
He listened once more.
His expression changed.
"She says Victor isn't trying to escape."
"What is he doing?"
Hollis looked directly at my father.
"He's going to the old Hale warehouse."
Lena's father's warehouse site.
The place that started everything.
Dad went pale.
"Why?"
Hollis answered.
"Angela says Victor plans to burn the last evidence tonight."
I shook my head.
"The evidence isn't there."
Dad looked at me.
"Some is."
"What?"
His face tightened.
"Samuel."
I stepped closer.
"What did you hide?"
He swallowed.
"The original shipping ledgers."
"Where?"
He looked ashamed.
"Under the floor where Calvin died."
My chest went cold.
Victor wasn't running.
He was returning to the beginning.
May you like
To destroy the proof that had haunted him for twenty years.
And if we wanted justice, we had only one chance to stop him.
