Chapter 3 - The Uncle Who Brought the Letter

Dominic ran.

Vincent reached the station doors.

Edwin shouted:

“West exit!”

I knew the service corridor.

I had worked an event here two years earlier.

“Through here!”

Dominic followed me.

We cut across the baggage hall.

Vincent reached the parking lot.

His driver opened a black sedan.

Dominic grabbed the door before it closed.

“Stop.”

Vincent looked at him.

Sixty-one.

Silver hair.

Perfect coat.

Calm.

Always calm.

“Dominic.”

“You forged the letter.”

Vincent sighed.

“Get in.”

“No.”

“Not here.”

Dominic stared.

“Twenty years ago you told my mother I chose my father.”

“Yes.”

“You brought her a fake letter.”

“Yes.”

No excuse.

That was almost worse.

Elena reached us.

She stopped ten feet away.

Vincent looked at her.

“Still carrying the green suitcase.”

Elena’s face hardened.

“Still hiding behind other men’s decisions.”

Cassandra arrived with James.

Edwin behind them.

Dominic asked:

“Why?”

Vincent looked at James.

Then Elena.

Finally Dominic.

“Because your father was going to kill her.”

Silence.

Dominic frowned.

“That does not explain the letter.”

“No.”

Vincent stepped out of the car.

“Your mother had two plans.”

Elena went still.

Dominic noticed.

“What plans?”

Vincent continued.

“One was to leave with you.”

“And the other?”

Elena answered:

“To testify.”

Dominic stared.

“Against my father.”

“Yes.”

Vincent nodded.

“If she testified, your father would be arrested.”

Dominic looked at him.

“And?”

“And the men above your father would come for you.”

“What men?”

Vincent smiled without humor.

“The ones your father worked for.”

Dominic’s face changed.

“My father was not at the top.”

“No.”

James Reed whispered:

“He was middle management.”

Dominic stared at him.

Edwin continued:

“Railway routes were only one piece.”

Vincent looked at Elena.

“Your mother knew names.”

Elena tightened her grip on the suitcase.

Dominic looked at it.

“The files.”

“Yes.”

Vincent said:

“Your father discovered she copied them.”

“So he stopped her.”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

“I stopped him.”

Dominic stared.

“How?”

Vincent looked away.

That silence mattered.

Elena whispered:

“Tell him.”

Vincent closed his eyes.

Then looked at Dominic.

“The night your mother disappeared, your father planned to have her killed before the train reached the border.”

Dominic froze.

James looked down.

Vincent continued.

“I intercepted your car because if you reached the station, you would have been on the same train.”

Dominic stared.

“You saved me.”

“Yes.”

“By making my mother think I rejected her.”

“Yes.”

“Why not tell her the truth?”

“Because if she knew you had been taken, she would have stayed.”

Elena whispered:

“He was right.”

Dominic turned toward her.

She nodded.

“I would have stayed.”

He looked back at Vincent.

“So you chose for both of us.”

“Yes.”

Dominic punched him.

Vincent stumbled.

No one stopped Dominic.

He hit him again.

Then stopped himself.

Breathing hard.

Vincent wiped blood from his mouth.

“I deserved more.”

Dominic stared.

“You raised me.”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever plan to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

Vincent looked toward the station clock.

“Tonight.”

Dominic laughed.

“Convenient.”

Cassandra stepped forward.

“I found his copy of the letter last month.”

Dominic turned.

“What?”

She looked at Vincent.

“He told me everything.”

Dominic’s face went still.

“Everything?”

“Most of it.”

Elena whispered:

“Enough to find me.”

Cassandra nodded.

Dominic stared.

“You had three months.”

“Yes.”

“You knew my mother was alive.”

“Yes.”

“You knew Vincent forged the letter.”

“Yes.”

“You knew your father signed the incompetency papers.”

“Yes.”

Dominic looked at her.

“And you still planned our wedding.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Vincent said if Elena returned publicly, the people behind your father would know she was alive.”

Dominic looked at Vincent.

“Is that true?”

Vincent nodded.

Dominic looked back at Cassandra.

“And today?”

She swallowed.

“I told Elena the letter was fake because I could not keep doing it.”

Elena said quietly:

“She asked me to wait.”

Dominic frowned.

“For what?”

Cassandra looked at James.

“For my father to give us the last name.”

James went pale.

Dominic stared.

“What last name?”

James looked around the parking lot.

Then toward the station cameras.

“We should leave.”

“No.”

“Dominic.”

“No more moving conversations into safer rooms.”

James closed his eyes.

Then said:

“Your father answered to a man named Marcus Vale.”

Dominic stared.

“My grandfather?”

Elena whispered:

“No.”

Vincent looked sick.

Dominic frowned.

“Then who?”

James answered:

“Your older brother.”

Silence.

Dominic laughed once.

“I do not have a brother.”

Elena closed her eyes.

Vincent looked away.

Dominic saw both.

His voice dropped.

“Do I?”

Elena whispered:

“Yes.”

A car engine started behind us.

Black sedan.

Not Vincent’s.

The rear window lowered.

A man in his late thirties looked out.

Same dark eyes as Dominic.

Same jaw.

Then the sedan pulled away.

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Elena whispered:

“Marcus.”