Chapter 4 - THE NAME IN THE FILE
Grace cleaned the cut on Adrien's forehead at the kitchen island.
He objected twice.
She ignored him twice.
"You're bleeding."
"I've had worse."
"That doesn't make this less stupid."
Adrien watched her open a medical kit.
"You carry bandages?"
"I teach children how to survive imaginary dragons. Bandages are part of the job."
He almost smiled.
"You're unusual."
"So you've said."
She pressed gauze to his temple.
He didn't move.
The closeness changed the atmosphere.
Grace became aware of his eyes.
He became aware of her hands.
Neither mentioned it.
Victor entered.
"We have the shooter."
Adrien's expression hardened.
"Alive?"
"Yes."
"Bring him."
Victor hesitated.
"Here?"
"Yes."
Grace looked up.
"You're interrogating someone in your kitchen?"
Adrien glanced at her.
"Not in the kitchen."
"That was my concern."
Ten minutes later, the man was brought into a secure room downstairs.
Grace remained upstairs.
Adrien joined Victor.
The prisoner was young.
Too young.
Adrien recognized him.
"Daniel."
The man swallowed.
"Boss."
"Who hired you?"
Silence.
Adrien sat across from him.
"You shot at my home."
Daniel looked down.
"I didn't know she was there."
Adrien's eyes narrowed.
"That's a lie."
Daniel's face tightened.
"They told me the room would be empty."
"Who?"
Daniel said nothing.
Victor placed a file on the table.
Adrien opened it.
Inside was Grace's photograph.
Underneath it was a name.
ELIAS VOSS.
Adrien's older brother.
Dead for eleven years.
Adrien stared at the page.
Victor spoke quietly.
"We found his name in the payment records."
"Impossible."
"That's what we thought."
Adrien flipped through the file.
Bank transfers.
Encrypted messages.
Photographs.
And one handwritten note.
KEEP THE GIRL ALIVE UNTIL HE REMEMBERS.
Adrien stopped.
"What girl?"
Victor pointed to Grace's photograph.
Adrien's jaw tightened.
"She doesn't know anything."
"Maybe she doesn't."
"Then why her?"
Victor didn't answer.
Adrien returned upstairs.
Grace was standing near the window.
She turned.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
"You have the same face you had before the shooting."
"What face?"
"The one that says someone just told you something terrible."
Adrien walked toward her.
"I need to ask you something."
"Okay."
"Did you ever meet my brother?"
Grace frowned.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Did your mother ever mention the name Elias Voss?"
Grace went still.
Adrien noticed immediately.
"What?"
She looked away.
"I don't know."
"Grace."
"My mother had a box."
"What kind of box?"
"Old photographs. Letters. Things from before I was born."
"Where is it?"
"At my apartment."
Adrien's heart beat faster.
"Did she ever mention a man?"
Grace thought.
"There was one photograph."
"Of Elias?"
"I don't know his name."
"Describe him."
"Dark hair. Same eyes as you."
Adrien stared at her.
"Where is the photograph?"
Grace looked frightened.
"I lost it."
"When?"
"After my mother died."
"How?"
"I don't know."
He stepped closer.
"Grace, this matters."
"I know."
She swallowed.
"Because the man in that photograph looked at my mother the way you look at me."
Adrien stopped breathing.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Grace looked directly into his eyes.
"But I think our families knew each other."
The room fell silent.
Then Adrien's phone rang.
Victor.
Adrien answered.
"Sir."
"What?"
"We searched the old Voss records."
"And?"
"There is a missing file."
"Which one?"
A pause.
"Your mother's."
Adrien's face hardened.
"She died before Elias."
"I know."
"Then why is her file missing?"
Victor's voice lowered.
"Because someone removed it yesterday."
Grace watched Adrien.
He slowly lowered the phone.
"Someone is cleaning the past."
She whispered, "Why?"
Adrien looked at her.
"Because someone is afraid we're going to discover what happened eleven years ago."
"And if we do?"
His eyes darkened.
"Then the person who ordered the attack tonight is going to have a very bad week."
They spent the afternoon searching through old records.
Grace sat at a long table in the penthouse library while Adrien and Victor opened boxes that had not been touched in years.
There were ledgers.
Photographs.
Old property deeds.
Letters from men who were now dead.
Grace read each one carefully.
She was not looking for her mother anymore.
She was looking for herself.
That frightened her.
At the bottom of one box, she found a child's drawing.
A house.
A garden.
Three people holding hands.
She stared.
"That's mine."
Adrien came closer.
"Are you sure?"
"I drew this."
"How do you know?"
"Because of the sun."
He frowned.
She smiled sadly.
"I always drew the sun in the corner."
On the back was a date.
Twenty-four years earlier.
Grace was six.
She turned it over.
There were three names.
MARGARET.
ELIAS.
ADRIEN.
Adrien stared.
"I don't remember this."
"Maybe you were supposed to."
He sat.
Grace noticed his hands were trembling.
"What happened to you after my mother died?"
"My father sent me away."
"Where?"
"Switzerland."
"Why?"
"He said I needed discipline."
She looked at him.
"At nine?"
"I was asking questions."
"What questions?"
"Why my mother was crying."
Grace became quiet.
Adrien continued.
"I remembered you."
"Me?"
"You were there."
Her eyes widened.
"I knew you?"
"You were six."
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
That answer frustrated him.
He stood and walked toward the window.
"I have spent thirty years believing my memories were unreliable."
"Maybe they weren't."
"Maybe someone wanted them to be."
Victor entered.
"We found the original property records."
Adrien turned.
"Show me."
Victor placed them on the table.
One property had been transferred shortly before Margaret's death.
To a company called Northstar Holdings.
Grace recognized the name.
"My mother mentioned Northstar."
Adrien looked at her.
"When?"
"Once."
"Where?"
"In a letter."
She searched her bag and produced a folded page.
Adrien read it.
Northstar is not a company. It is a door. If you find the key, don't open it alone.
Adrien stared.
"What key?"
Grace didn't know.
Victor did.
He opened another folder.
Inside was a photograph of a silver key.
On its handle was a small star.
Grace's heart raced.
"I've seen that."
"Where?"
"At my mother's house."
"Do you still have it?"
She shook her head.
"Not anymore."
Adrien looked at Victor.
"Find it."
Victor nodded.
Grace looked at Adrien.
"Do you think my mother hid it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she knew someone would eventually come looking."
Grace folded her arms.
"Then let's make sure they regret finding us."
Adrien stared at her.
"You sound like me."
"That's unfortunate."
"No."
His expression softened.
"I think it's dangerous."
She smiled.
"Maybe that's why you like me."
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Grace spent the afternoon in the library with Adrien and Victor.
Boxes covered the table.
Old photographs.
Ledgers.
Letters.
Property records.
Everything belonged to a life Adrien had spent years refusing to examine.
Grace picked up a photograph.
A woman stood beside a garden.
She was smiling.
"Your mother?"
Adrien nodded.
Grace turned the picture over.
There was a date.
Twenty-four years earlier.
"I was six."
Adrien looked at the photograph.
"Yes."
Grace's fingers tightened.
"I remember this garden."
Adrien stared.
"You've been there?"
"I think so."
"How?"
"My mother took me."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Grace closed her eyes.
A memory surfaced.
A little boy running through flowers.
A woman shouting his name.
Elias.
Then Adrien.
She opened her eyes.
"I knew you."
Adrien's breathing changed.
"What?"
"When I was six, I met a boy who looked like you."
"That was me."
"I don't remember your face clearly."
"You remember me."
She nodded.
"You gave me a wooden horse."
Adrien stared.
He remembered.
A little girl sitting beneath a tree.
Margaret telling him not to let his father know she was there.
He had forgotten the girl's name.
Now he knew it.
Grace.
Victor entered with another folder.
"We found the original property records."
Adrien turned.
One property had been transferred shortly before Margaret's death.
Northstar Holdings.
Grace recognized the name.
"My mother mentioned Northstar."
"Where?"
"In a letter."
She searched her canvas bag and found the page.
Northstar is not a company. It is a door. If you find the key, don't open it alone.
Adrien read it twice.
"What key?"
Grace shook her head.
"I don't know."
Victor placed a photograph on the table.
A silver key with a star-shaped handle.
Grace stared.
"I've seen that."
"Where?"
"At my mother's house."
"Do you still have it?"
She shook her head.
"Not anymore."
Adrien looked at Victor.
"Find it."
Victor nodded.
Grace watched Adrien.
"You think my mother hid it."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she knew someone would eventually come looking."
Grace folded her arms.
"Then let's make sure they regret finding us."
Adrien looked at her.
"You sound like me."
"That's unfortunate."
"No."
His expression softened.
"I think it's dangerous."
She smiled.
"Maybe that's why you like me."
He didn't answer.
His silence was answer enough.
Grace held the old drawing against her chest.
"I wish I remembered more."
Adrien sat beside her.
"Maybe you will."
"What if I remember something terrible?"
"Then you won't face it alone."
She looked at him.
"You keep saying things like that."
"What things?"
"Things that sound like promises."
He was quiet.
"Maybe they are."
Grace smiled.
The moment was interrupted by Victor entering with a new report.
The fire records had been found.
There had been a fire.
Not at the estate.
At a property listed under Northstar Holdings.
The date matched the week Margaret disappeared.
Grace looked at Adrien.
"The garden."
Adrien nodded.
"Exactly."
They both understood.
The garden had not been destroyed.
May you like
It had been moved.
And somewhere beneath the old Northstar property, something had survived.
