The Man Who Should Have Been Dead

I could not stop staring at Adrian. “They found Victor at the hospital where my uncle was treated?”

“Yes.”

“Then we have to go there.”

Adrian nodded. “We are leaving now.”

Nora followed us to the car, but Adrian stopped her before she could get inside. “You should stay here.”

“No,” Nora said firmly. “I am coming with you.”

Adrian looked at me, and I nodded. “Nora is coming.”

He sighed. “Fine, but you both stay close to me.”

The drive to the hospital felt longer than usual. I kept thinking about the wallet we had found. Daniel Carter. My uncle. A man I had buried three years ago. A man who was supposedly dead. A man who had just entered my grandmother’s house and left us proof that he was alive.

I looked at Adrian. “What if Victor knows where my uncle is?”

“He probably does.”

“Then why was Victor at the hospital?”

“To find him.”

“Or to meet him.”

Adrian did not answer, and that possibility frightened me more than anything he could have said.

When we arrived at the hospital, several police cars were parked outside, and an officer approached us. “Are you Elena Carter?”

“Yes.”

“Your name was mentioned by the suspect.”

My heart tightened. “What did Victor say?”

“He asked for you.”

I looked at Adrian. “Where is he?”

“Inside.”

The officer led us through the hospital until we reached a private room, where Victor was sitting on the bed with his hands handcuffed. His face looked tired, and when he saw me, his expression changed. “Elena.”

I stood in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for someone.”

“My uncle.”

Victor looked at me. “You know?”

“Yes.”

He lowered his head. “Then you know more than you should.”

I stepped closer. “You worked with him.”

“I did not.”

“Then why were you here?”

“Because he contacted me.”

My heart raced. “When?”

“Before I escaped.”

“Why would he contact you?”

Victor looked at Adrian. “Because he wanted something.”

“What?”

“The Marlowe records.”

I stared at him. “Why does everyone want those records?”

Victor looked at me. “Because they contain names.”

“Whose names?”

“People who have been protected for years.”

I felt a chill. “Are you one of them?”

Victor looked away. “I made mistakes.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I was afraid.”

I laughed bitterly. “You were afraid, so you destroyed my life?”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“You cheated on me.”

“Yes.”

“You used my identity.”

“Yes.”

“You were going to marry Sophia.”

His eyes filled with regret. “Yes.”

I felt tears burning behind my eyes. “Then do not tell me you never wanted to hurt me.”

Victor looked at me. “I loved you.”

I shook my head. “You loved what I gave you.”

“That is not true.”

“Then why did you do all those things?”

He had no answer, and I turned away. Adrian placed a hand gently on my shoulder, and Victor watched him. “You chose him.”

I looked at Victor. “No.”

He looked surprised.

“I chose myself.”

The room became silent, and those words felt strange coming from my mouth. For years, I had defined myself through Victor. I had been his girlfriend, his future wife, his partner. Even when he betrayed me, I still wondered what I had done wrong. But now I understood something. I had been so busy trying to save my relationship that I had forgotten to save myself.

I looked at Victor again. “I do not hate you anymore.” He stared at me. “I just do not love you anymore.”

His face fell, and I walked away. Adrian followed me into the hallway. “You okay?”

I nodded. “I think I am.”

He looked at me carefully. “You were brave.”

I smiled faintly. “I was terrified.”

“Being brave does not mean you are not afraid.”

I looked into his eyes. “You always know what to say.”

“Only when it matters.”

My heart softened, and for a moment I forgot about the investigation. I forgot about Victor. I forgot about my uncle. I only saw Adrian. He moved closer. “You deserve to be happy.”

I swallowed. “So do you.”

His eyes stayed on mine, and then he gently touched my cheek. I closed my eyes, and his lips touched mine. This kiss felt different from the one we shared at the hotel. It was slower, deeper, carrying everything we had been afraid to say out loud.

When we pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his. “I am scared of falling for you.”

He looked at me. “Why?”

“Because I just escaped one broken relationship.”

“I am not Victor.”

“I know.”

“Then do not punish yourself for what he did.”

I opened my eyes. “I am trying.”

“Then let me help you.”

Before I could answer, an officer approached us. “Ms. Carter.”

I turned.

“We found something in Victor’s belongings.” He handed me a small envelope with my name written on it. I opened it carefully, and inside was a photograph. I looked at it and saw my father standing beside my uncle, but there was another person in the picture as well. A woman. I recognized her immediately. My mother.

My hands began to shake. My mother had died when I was a child, or so I had always believed, and I had assumed she had nothing to do with my father’s business. But the photograph told another story. On the back was a message. Your mother knew the truth before your father did.

I looked at Adrian. “My mother knew?”

He took the photograph, and his expression changed. “What is it?”

“I do not know.”

He studied the picture, then turned it over. There was another sentence beneath the first one. Ask her why she left you.

I felt the world around me go quiet. My mother had not died when I was young. She had left. That was what my father had always told me, that she had died after becoming sick, but now I wondered if that had been another lie.

I looked at Adrian. “Do you think my mother is alive?”

He did not answer immediately, and then he looked toward the end of the hallway. A woman was standing there, wearing a long coat and holding a small handbag. She looked directly at me, and I knew that face. I had seen it in old photographs. My breath caught. “Adrian.”

He turned. The woman slowly walked toward us, and tears filled my eyes. I could barely speak. “Mom?”

The woman stopped, and for several seconds she only stared at me. Then she whispered my name. “Elena.”

My knees almost gave way. My mother was alive, and she had been watching me all these years.