Unexpected Discovery

Nickey drove through empty streets. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. The photo of his twin sat on the passenger seat. Every red light, he looked at it. Same face. Same eyes. Alive.

His phone rang. Detective Raines.

"Where are you?" Raines asked.

"Driving. Clearing my head."

"You need to come to the station. Now."

"What happened?"

"Just get here."

Nickey turned the car around.

At the station, Raines was waiting outside. His face was grim.

"What's going on?"

"Michael's lawyer filed a motion this morning. They're trying to get him released on bail."

"Can they do that?"

"With his connections and money? Maybe. The hearing is tomorrow."

Nickey felt sick. "If he gets out..."

"He won't come near you or Trina. That's part of the bail conditions."

"You think a piece of paper will stop him?"

Raines had no answer.

Inside, they sat in an interview room. Coffee that tasted like dirt. Fluorescent lights that buzzed.

"Tell me about the lawyer," Raines said. "Rebecca Stone. When did she contact you?"

Nickey hesitated. "Last night. In the parking garage."

"What did she want?"

This was it. The moment he had to choose. Tell Raines about the deal and lose his only chance to find his brother. Or lie and betray everything he'd fought for.

"She tried to intimidate me. Said Michael had powerful friends. That I should drop the charges."

"What did you say?"

"I told her no."

Raines studied his face. "You're holding something back."

"I'm not."

"Nickey. I've been doing this twenty years. I know when someone's lying."

"I'm tired. Confused. My head's a mess."

"Is there something you need to tell me?"

The photo in his pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

"No. There's nothing."

Raines didn't look convinced but he let it go. "Alright. Get some rest. Come back tomorrow for the bail hearing. We'll need you there."

Nickey left. Outside, the sun was rising. He'd been awake all night.

His phone buzzed. Text from Trina: Where are you? I woke up and you were gone.

He typed back: Had to talk to police. Be there soon.

At the hospital, Trina was sitting up in bed. Color had returned to her face. She looked better.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"You look terrible."

"Thanks."

She patted the bed. He sat.

"What did the police want?"

"Michael's trying to get bail."

Her face went pale. "No. He can't get out."

"They're trying to stop it."

"What if they can't?"

"Then we deal with it."

She grabbed his hand. "I'm scared."

"Me too."

They sat in silence. Outside, nurses walked past. Carts rattled. Normal hospital sounds.

"I need to ask you something," Nickey said.

"Okay."

"Did Michael ever mention my twin brother?"

Trina frowned. "Your twin? I thought he died in the fire."

"That's what I thought too. But what if he didn't?"

"Why are you asking this?"

He pulled out the photo. Showed her.

Her eyes went wide. "Where did you get this?"

"Michael's lawyer gave it to me."

"When?"

"Last night."

"Why didn't you tell the police?"

"Because there's a deal attached."

He explained everything. The offer. The ultimatum. Twenty four hours to decide.

Trina listened without interrupting. When he finished, she was quiet for a long time.

"You can't do it," she finally said.

"He's my brother."

"And Michael killed your parents. Destroyed your life. You can't let him win."

"What if this is my only chance? What if my brother dies because I chose revenge over family?"

"Michael's lying. That photo could be fake."

"What if it's not?"

She had no answer.

A knock on the door. Dr. Chen entered.

"Sorry to interrupt. Need to run some tests on Ms. Clarke."

"I'll wait outside," Nickey said.

In the hallway, he called the number Rebecca Stone had texted from. She answered on the first ring.

"Mr. Matthews. Have you made a decision?"

"I need proof. That my brother's really alive. That this isn't a trick."

"What kind of proof?"

"Let me talk to him. Video call. Something that shows he's real."

"That can be arranged. Give me two hours."

She hung up.

Nickey paced the hallway. Two hours felt like forever.

A nurse approached. "Are you Nickey Matthews?"

"Yes."

"There's someone here to see you. Says it's urgent."

"Who?"

"She wouldn't give her name. Just said you'd want to talk to her."

He followed the nurse to the waiting area. A woman stood by the window. Dark hair, expensive clothes. When she turned, he recognized her.

Helena.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I needed to talk to you. Away from Michael's people."

"Why would I talk to you? You worked for him."

"I know. But things have changed." She looked around nervously. "Can we go somewhere private?"

They found an empty conference room. Helena locked the door.

"Michael's getting out tomorrow," she said.

"How do you know?"

"Because I heard his lawyers talking. They bribed the judge. The bail hearing is just for show."

Nickey's stomach dropped. "You're sure?"

"Yes. And when he gets out, he's going after Trina first."

"I won't let that happen."

"You can't stop him. He has resources you don't even know about. People who will do anything for money."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Helena sat down. "Because I'm tired of being part of his crimes. I took this job because I needed money. My daughter was sick. Medical bills. Michael paid for everything. But I didn't know what he was really doing. The murders, the lies."

"You knew enough."

"Yes. I did. And I'm ashamed." She pulled an envelope from her purse. "This is everything I know about Michael's operations. Bank accounts, safe houses, people on his payroll. It might help the police."

Nickey took the envelope. "If he finds out you gave me this..."

"Then I'll deal with it. Some things are worth the risk."

She stood to leave.

"Wait," Nickey said. "Do you know anything about my twin brother?"

Helena stopped. "Your twin?"

"Michael's lawyer said he's alive. In a facility upstate."

"I don't know about that. But I do know Michael kept files in a storage unit. Personal things he didn't want at the house. If your brother's alive, there might be information there."

"Where's this storage unit?"

She wrote an address on a piece of paper. "Be careful. Michael has cameras everywhere."

She left.

Nickey stared at the address. Then at the envelope Helena gave him. Then at his phone.

Two hours had passed. Rebecca Stone called.

"I have your proof," she said. "Check your email."

He opened his laptop. An email from an unknown address. One video file attached.

He clicked play.

A man appeared on screen. Sitting in a white room. Medical equipment in the background. Same face as Nickey. But older. Scarred. Half his face covered in burn marks.

"Nickey?" The man's voice was weak. "Is that really you?"

Tears burned Nickey's eyes. "James?"

"They told me you were dead. That the whole family died in the fire."

"They lied. I survived. I've been looking for you."

"I don't have much time. They only gave me five minutes." James leaned closer to the camera. "Don't trust Michael. Whatever he's offering, it's a trap."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. Some kind of hospital. They keep me sedated most of the time. But Nickey, listen. There's something important."

The video cut off.

Nickey hit replay. The video wouldn't load again. Just an error message.

He called Rebecca Stone. "What happened? The video stopped."

"Technical difficulties. But you saw enough. Your brother's alive."

"Where is he?"

"Do we have a deal?"

"I need to think."

"Your time's running out. Michael's bail hearing is at nine tomorrow morning. Decide by then."

She hung up.

Nickey sat in the empty conference room. His brother's scarred face burned in his mind.

There's something important.

What was James trying to tell him?

His phone buzzed. Text from unknown number: Storage unit address you received. Go there tonight. Midnight. Alone. Answers waiting.

Not from Rebecca. Not from Raines. Who was this?

Another text: Your brother's life depends on it.

Nickey checked the time. Eight PM. Four hours until midnight.

He went back to Trina's room. She was sleeping. He kissed her forehead and left a note: Had to take care of something. Back soon. Stay safe.

At his apartment, he packed a bag. Flashlight, crowbar, phone charger. The address Helena gave him was across town. Industrial area. Lots of abandoned warehouses.

At eleven thirty, he drove there. Dark streets. No other cars. The storage facility was old, chain link fence, rows of units with orange doors.

Unit 47. The one Helena mentioned.

The lock was already broken. Someone had been here recently.

Nickey pulled the door up. It rattled loudly in the quiet night.

Inside, boxes stacked to the ceiling. Old furniture. Filing cabinets.

He started searching. Found financial records, property deeds, photographs of people he didn't recognize.

Then, in the back, a safe. Small, built into the wall.

He tried the crowbar. No good. Too strong.

His phone buzzed. Text: Combination is your mother's birthday.

Who was sending these texts?

He tried the date. 08-15-67.

The safe clicked open.

Inside, medical records. Facility transfer papers. Bills paid in cash.

And a map. With a location circled. Two hours north.

Sunrise Medical Center.

Where James was being held.

There was also a folder labeled Insurance. Inside, photographs. Dozens of them.

Michael meeting with police officers. Handing them envelopes. Judges accepting briefcases. Politicians shaking his hand.

Proof of every bribe, every dirty deal, every corrupt connection.

This was bigger than Nickey thought. Michael wasn't just a criminal. He had half the city's leadership in his pocket.

Footsteps outside.

Nickey shoved everything in his bag and turned off his flashlight.

The door rattled. Someone was opening it.

He hid behind a stack of boxes.

The door rolled up. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness.

"He was here," a voice said. Male. Rough.

"Find him."

Two men. Maybe three. Searching the unit.

Nickey held his breath. His phone was on silent but the screen glowed in his pocket.

One of the men walked right past his hiding spot.

Then stopped.

"Over here."

Nickey ran. Burst from behind the boxes and sprinted for the door.

Shouts behind him. Footsteps pounding.

He made it outside and ran between the storage units. The men chased him. Fast. Trained.

Michael's people.

Nickey reached the fence and climbed. His bag caught on the wire. He yanked it free and dropped to the other side.

A car engine roared. Headlights flooded the lot.

He ran into the street. Flagged down a passing truck. The driver looked scared but stopped.

"Please. I need a ride. Emergency."

The driver saw the men chasing him and hit the gas.

They drove five blocks before Nickey felt safe enough to breathe.

"You okay, man?" the driver asked.

"Yeah. Thanks. You can drop me anywhere."

At a gas station, Nickey got out. Called Detective Raines.

"I found something. Evidence of bribes. Corruption. Michael owns half the city."

"Where are you?"

"Gas station on Fifth Street. But Raines, there's more. My twin brother. He's alive. Being held at a facility upstate."

"How do you know?"

"Michael's lawyer showed me proof. I found the location in Michael's storage unit."

"Don't go there alone. We'll send officers."

"There's no time. The bail hearing's in eight hours. If Michael gets out, he'll move James. I'll never find him again."

"Nickey, listen to me. This could be a trap."

"I know. But I have to risk it."

He hung up. Got back in his car. Started driving north.

Two hours later, he pulled up to Sunrise Medical Center. Small building. Quiet. Only a few lights on.

He checked his phone. Three AM.

A text appeared: Room 14. Second floor. James is waiting.

Nickey walked to the entrance. The door was unlocked.

Inside, the lobby was empty. No receptionist. No security.

Too easy.

He climbed the stairs. Second floor hallway. Dim lights. The smell of disinfectant.

Room 14 was at the end.

He pushed the door open.

A hospital bed. Empty.

Then a voice behind him.

"Hello, brother."

Nickey spun around.

A man stood in the doorway. Same face. But no scars. No burns. Just a smile that looked exactly like Michael's.

"You're not James," Nickey whispered.

"No. I'm not." The man pulled out a gun. "But Michael sends his regards."