Chapter 5 - The Name Hidden For Seven Years
"Claire."
The name stayed in the air.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Rachel.
Or whoever she really was.
Because now I knew one thing.
Rachel Morgan was a lie.
My mother had said her name like it was a warning.
Like it was the name of someone who had already destroyed our family once.
"Who is Claire?" I asked.
Rachel didn't answer.
That silence hurt more than any confession.
Because I was starting to understand.
The people who told the truth answered quickly.
The people who hid something always needed time.
My mother stepped forward.
"Kate, listen to me."
I turned toward her.
"No."
My voice surprised even me.
It wasn't angry.
It wasn't loud.
It was empty.
"I spent seven years believing my brother was dead."
My mother looked down.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
I shook my head.
"You don't know what that feels like."
The memories came back.
Noah's funeral.
The flowers.
The empty chair at family dinners.
My mother crying in the kitchen.
My father staring silently at the wall.
All of it.
A performance.
A lie.
"You let me mourn someone who was alive."
My mother's eyes filled with tears.
"I was trying to protect you."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
I looked around the cabin.
"Everyone says they protected me."
I pointed at the photographs.
"But somehow every protection ended with me being the only person who didn't know the truth."
Nobody answered.
Because nobody could.
Rachel finally spoke.
"My name is not Rachel Morgan."
I looked at her.
"Then tell me your real name."
She hesitated.
Then she said:
"Claire Bennett."
My stomach dropped.
The name.
The same name from Noah's warning.
The same name my mother whispered like a nightmare.
I stepped back.
"You knew Noah."
Claire nodded.
"I did."
"How?"
She looked at my mother.
Then back at me.
"Because I was with him the night he disappeared."
The room became silent.
"Disappeared?"
I repeated.
"Not died?"
Claire shook her head.
"No."
My hands tightened.
"Then tell me what happened."
Claire walked toward the table.
She picked up one of the old photographs.
It showed Noah standing outside a building.
The same building from the other photo.
"He found something your father was hiding."
"What?"
"Your father wasn't just buying land."
Claire placed the photo down.
"He was using those properties to hide evidence."
I frowned.
"Evidence of what?"
"People."
The answer made no sense.
"What people?"
Claire looked at my mother.
"Ask her."
I turned.
My mother looked away.
"Mom."
She didn't respond.
"Mom."
Her shoulders lowered.
Then she finally spoke.
"Workers."
I waited.
"Your father was involved with a group that forced people out of their homes."
I stared at her.
"That doesn't sound like Dad."
"I know."
She swallowed.
"That's why Noah started investigating."
My brother.
The person everyone told me was reckless.
The person everyone said made mistakes.
He wasn't making mistakes.
He was looking for answers.
"And you knew?"
I asked my mother.
She nodded.
"At first, I thought Noah was wrong."
"Then?"
"Then I found the documents."
Her voice became quieter.
"And I realized he was right."
A strange feeling moved through me.
Anger.
But also sadness.
Because suddenly I understood something.
My mother hadn't been protecting me from a dangerous stranger.
She had been protecting me from my own family.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
My mother looked at me.
"Because your father knew."
The room went still.
"What?"
"He knew Noah found out."
My mother looked terrified.
"He knew Noah was going to expose everything."
I felt my heart beating faster.
"What happened the night of the accident?"
Nobody answered.
That was when I knew.
The accident wasn't an accident.
Claire opened her bag.
She pulled out a small hard drive.
"I have something Noah wanted you to see."
My mother immediately stepped forward.
"No."
Claire looked at her.
"It's time."
"No."
"Linda."
My mother froze.
"You know what happens if she sees this."
My mother looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw something I had never seen before.
Fear for me.
Not fear of losing control.
Fear of losing me.
Claire connected the hard drive to an old laptop sitting on the cabin table.
The screen turned on.
There were folders.
Hundreds of them.
Names.
Dates.
Locations.
My father's company name appeared again and again.
Then one folder caught my attention.
KATE.
My breathing stopped.
"Why is my name there?"
Claire didn't answer.
I clicked it.
Inside was a video file.
Created seven years ago.
The same week Noah disappeared.
I pressed play.
The screen showed my house.
My old bedroom window.
The camera angle was from outside.
Someone had been watching our home.
Then the video changed.
Noah appeared.
He was sitting in a car.
His face was bruised.
My heart broke.
"Kate..."
His voice shook.
"If you're watching this, I failed."
I covered my mouth.
"Noah..."
He continued.
"I tried to get Mom out. I tried to get you out."
The video paused for a second.
Then he looked directly into the camera.
"But Dad isn't the only person involved."
I looked at Claire.
She looked nervous.
The video continued.
"There is someone else."
Noah looked toward the car window.
Like he was afraid someone was coming.
"Someone who has access to everything."
A noise came from outside.
Noah stopped.
Then he whispered:
"I found out who helped him."
The screen shook.
Noah grabbed the camera.
His breathing became faster.
"Kate, if Claire is with you..."
Claire froze.
"...don't trust her until you know why she disappeared."
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
I slowly turned toward Claire.
My head was spinning.
"You knew he made that video."
Claire nodded.
"Yes."
"You knew he warned me about you."
"Yes."
"Then why did you bring me here?"
Claire looked at me.
"Because Noah asked me to."
I almost laughed.
"Even after he told me not to trust you?"
She looked down.
"Because Noah knew you wouldn't trust anyone."
My phone suddenly vibrated.
I looked down.
A new message.
From Noah.
My fingers went cold.
The message contained only one sentence.
"Kate, Claire isn't the person you should fear."
I looked up.
Everyone was watching me.
Then another message arrived.
A picture.
I opened it.
It was a photo taken inside my family's house.
Today.
After we evacuated.
The picture showed my father's office.
The door was open.
And someone was standing inside.
Someone I recognized.
Someone who should not have been there.
Because underneath the picture was a message.
"Your father never left the house."
I stared at the screen.
My mother whispered:
"That's impossible."
Then the cabin lights suddenly turned off.
Darkness surrounded us.
Outside, footsteps moved closer.
Claire grabbed my hand.
"Kate, we have to go."
But before we reached the door, the lock turned from the outside.
Someone had locked us in.
May you like
And then my father's voice came through the other side.
"Open the door, Kate."
