Chapter 7: The Mother Who Came Back
Victor did not remember standing up.
One second, he was sitting at the dining table.
The next, he was across the room, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
The entire world had narrowed down to one impossible sentence.
*I was never dead.*
For twenty years, Victor had carried a memory of his mother’s funeral.
The black suit.
The flowers.
The people whispering condolences.
His father’s hand on his shoulder as he told him to be strong.
He remembered crying until there were no tears left.
He remembered asking why she had to leave.
And now a woman claiming to be Clara Blackwood was telling him she had been alive the entire time.
“Prove it.””
The words came out before he could stop them.
Silence.
Then the voice answered softly.
“You still bite the inside of your cheek when you’re angry.””
Victor froze.
A small detail.
Something nobody knew.
Nobody except his mother.
“When you were seven, you broke your father’s expensive watch because you thought time was the reason he was always leaving.””
Victor’s breathing stopped.
The memory appeared instantly.
A little boy sitting on the floor.
A broken watch.
His mother laughing instead of punishing him.
“You told me,” the voice continued, “that if time stopped, Daddy would stay home.””
Victor closed his eyes.
His hand moved to his face.
No stranger could know that.
No one.
“Where are you?””
“I can’t tell you.””
His eyes opened.
“Why?””
“Because if Richard knows I contacted you, Ethan will be in danger.””
Victor looked toward the stairs.
Toward his son.
His voice lowered.
“Explain everything.””
“I will.””
A pause.
“But not on the phone.””
Victor looked around the room.
Everyone was watching him.
Serena.
Lily.
Martha.
All three understood.
Something impossible had just happened.
“I’m sending you a location.””
The line went quiet.
Then:
“Victor?””
“Yes?””
“I’m sorry.””
His throat tightened.
“For what?””
“For letting you believe I abandoned you.””
The call ended.
For ten minutes, nobody spoke.
The silence was unbearable.
Finally, Lily whispered:
“Your mother is alive.””
Victor looked at her.
“I heard her voice.””
Martha sat down slowly.
“I don’t understand.””
Neither did Victor.
His entire life had been built around certain truths.
His mother was dead.
His wife died in an accident.
His father protected him.
Serena loved him.
Four beliefs.
Four lies.
And now he didn’t know what remained.
Serena stood.
“Victor.””
He looked at her.
“What?””
“I know where she is.””
The room went still.
Victor stared.
“You knew?””
Serena shook her head quickly.
“No.””
“Then how?””
She walked closer.
“My father had a file.””
Victor’s expression hardened.
“Another file?””
She nodded.
“He called it the Blackwood disappearance.””
Victor looked at the documents scattered around the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
Serena looked down.
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“Of becoming exactly like my father.””
That answer surprised him.
For a moment, he saw something different in her.
Not innocence.
Not forgiveness.
Just regret.
“My father spent years obsessed with your family,” Serena said.
“He blamed Richard for everything.””
Victor interrupted.
“Did he know my mother was alive?””
“I don’t know.””
She hesitated.
“But I think he suspected.””
Victor looked away.
“Why?””
“Because he had a photograph.””
“Of my mother?””
Serena nodded.
“And another person.””
“Who?””
Her face changed.
“The person he believed was responsible for hiding her.””
Victor waited.
Serena whispered:
“Adrian Cross.””
The same name from his mother’s journal.
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
“Who is Adrian Cross?””
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
But someone did.
The location arrived thirty minutes later.
A small abandoned church outside the city.
Victor stared at the address.
It felt like a trap.
Everything felt like a trap now.
But if his mother was alive, he couldn’t stay away.
“I’m going alone.””
Lily immediately shook her head.
“No.””
Victor looked at her.
“This is dangerous.””
“That’s why you shouldn’t go alone.””
He almost argued.
Then stopped.
Because she was right.
He had spent years trusting people because they were family.
Lily had earned his trust through action.
Not words.
“Martha, stay with Ethan.””
The older woman nodded.
“I will protect him with my life.””
Victor looked at Serena.
She stood silently near the doorway.
“You stay here.””
Her face tightened.
“I understand.””
Victor paused.
A part of him wanted to hate her.
It would have been easier.
But hatred required certainty.
And Victor no longer had certainty about anything.
The church was hidden deep in the countryside.
The road leading there was empty.
Broken.
Almost forgotten.
Victor and Lily arrived just before sunset.
The building looked abandoned.
The windows were covered with dust.
The wooden doors were damaged by years of weather.
Victor stepped out of the car.
His heart was pounding.
Not from fear.
From anticipation.
Twenty years.
Twenty years wondering what happened to his mother.
He walked inside.
The church was dark.
“Hello?””
His voice echoed.
No answer.
Then a candle lit at the far end of the room.
A woman stepped out from behind the old wooden altar.
Victor stopped.
The world seemed to stop with him.
She looked older.
Of course she did.
Twenty years had passed.
Her hair was silver.
Her face carried lines that weren’t there in his childhood memories.
But her eyes were the same.
The same eyes that had watched him take his first steps.
The same eyes that had held him when he was afraid.
“Victor.””
He couldn’t move.
He had imagined this moment a thousand times.
But never like this.
Never impossible.
Never real.
“Mom?””
The woman covered her mouth.
A broken sound escaped her.
And then Victor crossed the room.
He didn’t care about questions.
He didn’t care about secrets.
For one moment, he was just a son.
He held her.
And after twenty years, Clara Blackwood finally cried.
“I’m sorry.””
Victor’s eyes filled.
“Why?””
“Because I wanted to come back.””
“Then why didn’t you?””
She pulled away.
And the pain in her expression answered before her words did.
“Because I wasn’t allowed to.””
Victor froze.
“Allowed?””
Clara looked toward the door.
“He told me if I came back, you would die.””
Victor’s face changed.
“Who?””
She looked at him.
“Your father.””
The words landed heavily.
Again.
Richard.
Always Richard.
Victor stepped back.
“What happened?””
Clara took a deep breath.
“The night Eleanor died, she discovered everything.””
“What?””
“She discovered Richard wasn’t hiding the truth.””
Victor stared.
“Then what was he doing?””
Clara looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“He was helping create it.””
Victor felt the ground disappear.
“No.””
“I wish I was wrong.””
“What does that mean?””
Clara walked toward an old wooden table.
She placed a folder on it.
“I kept this for twenty years.””
Victor opened it.
Inside were documents.
Photos.
Records.
And one image that made him stop.
A security photograph.
Taken inside the Blackwood mansion.
The date was the night Eleanor died.
Victor stared.
Because in the photograph, he saw his wife.
Standing in the hallway.
Alive.
Talking to someone.
Someone he recognized.
Richard.
But that wasn’t what shocked him.
It was the person standing behind Richard.
The person whose face was partially visible.
The person Eleanor had apparently discovered.
Victor moved closer.
“Who is that?””
Clara’s face became pale.
“That is the person who started all of this.””
Victor looked at the image.
Then Clara whispered:
“The person who convinced Richard to betray the family.””
A pause.
“The person who has been controlling Blackwood Holdings from the shadows for decades.””
Victor looked at the photograph again.
The face was blurry.
But the name written on the back was clear.
*Adrian Cross.*
Then his phone rang.
Victor looked down.
A message had arrived.
From the mansion.
From Martha.
May you like
Only four words.
*Sir. Ethan is gone.*
