They did not leave through the main entrance.
The caretaker led them down a narrow staircase beneath the church.
Dust covered the steps.
Daniel carried the wooden box.
Mara kept the key in her hand.
Behind them, footsteps sounded above.
Elaine had entered the church.
Their father whispered, “She won't follow us here.”
Mara looked back.
“Why?”
“Because she doesn't know about the archive.”
Daniel frowned.
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
They reached a steel door.
The key fit.
The lock opened with surprising ease.
Inside were shelves filled with boxes.
Old church records.
Property documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
Mara switched on a weak lamp.
“Where do we start?”
Their father pointed toward the back.
“Look for anything dated the year your mother died.”
They searched.
Minutes passed.
Then Daniel found a box.
The label contained their mother's name.
Mara opened it.
Inside was a folder.
A photograph.
And a police report.
The report stated that their mother had died in a car accident.
Mara read the location.
It was not near the cabin.
It was three hours away.
“That makes no sense.”
Daniel looked at the photograph.
It showed the wrecked car.
He turned it over.
A date.
Then he looked at the police report.
“The date is wrong.”
Their father took it.
The accident date was two days after their mother had supposedly died.
Mara stared.
“She wasn't in the car.”
“No,” her father said.
Daniel's voice became quiet.
“She disappeared.”
Mara found another document.
A travel receipt.
One ticket.
Paid in cash.
Destination unknown.
Then another.
A hotel receipt.
The same week.
A signature.
Her mother's.
Their father sat down.
“She survived.”
Mara looked at him.
“Why didn't you find her?”
“I searched for years.”
“You had Rowan.”
“Yes.”
“Keller.”
“Yes.”
“Then how?”
Her father shook his head.
“She disappeared better than I did.”
A sound echoed from above.
Someone had entered the church basement.
Mara closed the folder.
“Elaine?”
Their father listened.
“No.”
“Then who?”
A man's voice called from the stairs.
“Mara.”
She froze.
Keller's voice.
Impossible.
He was awaiting trial.
Daniel whispered, “How?”
Their father moved toward the door.
“Don't.”
Keller appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
Two men stood behind him.
Mara stepped back.
“You're supposed to be in custody.”
Keller smiled.
“Custody is a flexible word.”
Rowan's voice came from behind him.
“Not for long.”
A second group entered from another corridor.
Federal agents.
Keller turned.
The smile disappeared.
Rowan moved forward.
“You're done.”
Keller looked at Mara.
“You found the archive.”
She said nothing.
He laughed.
“Your mother was clever.”
“You knew she survived.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Keller's expression changed.
For the first time, he looked tired.
“She is the reason your father disappeared.”
Mara stepped closer.
“Tell me.”
“She knew too much.”
“What happened to her?”
“She ran.”
“From you?”
“From everyone.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Why?”
Keller looked at him.
“Because your mother discovered something even your father didn't know.”
Mara felt her pulse rise.
“What?”
Keller's eyes moved toward the archive boxes.
“The property scheme wasn't created by me.”
Her father stared.
Keller continued.
“Your father inherited it.”
“No.”
“He didn't start it.”
Keller smiled faintly.
“He found it already operating.”
Mara looked at her father.
He looked stunned.
“Who started it?”
Keller did not answer.
Instead, he pointed toward the wooden box.
“Open the bottom.”
Mara hesitated.
Her father said, “Don't.”
But Daniel had already turned the box over.
There was a false panel.
He removed it.
Inside was a photograph.
Their mother stood beside a group of people.
Mara recognized several faces.
Keller.
Rowan.
Their father.
Elaine.
And one more.
A man whose name appeared repeatedly in the notebook.
H.
Mara looked at the photograph.
“Harlan.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed.
The man was not Harlan.
It was their grandfather.
Their father's father.
Mara felt the room tilt.
The property scheme had begun before their father.
Before Keller.
Before any of them.
Their grandfather had built it.
Their father had discovered it.
Their mother had uncovered it.
And Keller had inherited the machinery.
Mara turned toward her father.
“You knew.”
He shook his head.
“I knew my father had made mistakes. I didn't know the scale.”
Keller laughed.
“You never wanted to know.”
Their father looked at him.
“Why did you kill my wife?”
Keller's expression hardened.
“I didn't.”
Mara stepped forward.
“Then who did?”
Keller looked at the photograph.
“Ask the person who signed the original transfer documents.”
Rowan looked at the papers.
His face changed.
Mara saw it.
“You know.”
Rowan did not answer.
Her father whispered, “No.”
Mara turned toward him.
“What?”
He stared at the signature.
“It belongs to my mother.”
Everyone went silent.
Mara's grandmother.
The person she had never suspected.
The person who had died peacefully years before.
Her father looked broken.
“My mother was the first person who signed the transfers.”
Daniel whispered, “Then Mom found out.”
“Yes.”
“And that's why she disappeared.”
Their father nodded slowly.
“But it still doesn't explain where she went.”
Mara looked at the archive.
A final envelope lay beneath the photograph.
Her mother's handwriting covered it.
She opened it.
Inside was an address.
A town several hundred miles away.
And beneath it:
I am alive. I have been waiting for the children to be ready.
Mara stared at the words.
Daniel read them.
Their father could not speak.
The address belonged to a small house near the coast.
Mara folded the letter.
“We're going.”
Her father looked at her.
“I'll come.”
“No.”
He stopped.
Mara's voice was gentle.
“This time, Daniel and I go first.”
Click Here to continue read next: PART12: The Road to the Coast Finally Brought Mara Face to Face With the Woman Everyone Had Buried, and Her First Words Changed Everything
By the Time Mara Reached the Porch, the Fire Had Already Taken the One Thing Her Brother Was Trying to Protect
Part 11 of 16
