Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO CHOSE THE EMPIRE
Daniel found Thomas at sunrise.
He had not fled Newport.
He was sitting alone in the empty chapel beside the old conservatory.
Adrien arrived with Elena.
Vivian came too.
Nobody tried to stop her.
Thomas looked older than he had six hours earlier.
The cane rested beside him.
The blue coat lay across his knees.
“You repaired the tape,” he said.
Adrien remained standing.
“Yes.”
Thomas nodded.
“I wondered how long it would take.”
Elena stared at him.
“You threatened Isabella.”
“I tried to stop her.”
“From saving her son?”
“From starting a war.”
Adrien’s voice became cold.
“I was sixteen.”
“I know.”
“You called me an heir.”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“That’s how Conrad saw you.”
“That’s how you spoke about me.”
Thomas said nothing.
Adrien sat in the pew across from him.
“No more half-truths.”
Thomas looked toward the altar.
“I grew up poor enough to understand what money does to people who have never had it.”
Elena folded her arms.
“That’s your explanation?”
“No. It’s where the mistake began.”
Thomas had taught music to Isabella when she was a teenager.
She had been gifted.
Restless.
Determined to build a conservatory where talented children could study regardless of money.
Conrad Vale financed it.
Thomas had believed Conrad was saving their family.
By the time he understood where the money came from, he was dependent on it.
“So you helped him,” Adrien said.
“At first.”
“With laundering money.”
“Yes.”
Elena looked sick.
Thomas continued.
“Isabella discovered it. Richard Cross helped her gather evidence.”
“And you told Conrad.”
“Yes.”
“Twice?”
Thomas looked at Elena.
“Not in 1994.”
Vivian frowned.
“My father believed you did.”
“Richard was wrong.”
“Convenient.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
Vivian stared at him.
“So prove it.”
Thomas reached into the blue coat.
He tore open part of the lining.
Inside was another photograph.
Not Isabella.
A man.
Richard Cross.
Standing beside Conrad Vale.
The date was October 1994.
Adrien studied it.
“Where?”
“Montreal.”
Gabriel had said Isabella went north.
Thomas nodded.
“Richard found her.”
Vivian shook her head.
“No. My father was helping her.”
“He had been.”
“Had been?”
Thomas’s eyes filled.
“Conrad discovered Lucy was Richard’s daughter. He threatened Vivian.”
Vivian stopped breathing.
“Me?”
“You were twenty-three. Starting your career. Engaged to another man. Conrad threatened to expose Richard’s crimes and destroy your mother financially.”
Vivian sat down.
“My father changed sides.”
Thomas nodded.
“To protect you.”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
All these years, she had believed Richard died trying to protect Lucy.
He had.
But he had also betrayed Isabella to protect Vivian.
Love had not made these people innocent.
It had made them dangerous.
Elena looked at Thomas.
“What happened in Montreal?”
“Richard told Conrad where Isabella was staying.”
Adrien’s hands tightened.
“And?”
“Conrad went there.”
“What happened to my mother?”
“I arrived two days later. She was gone.”
“Dead?”
“I don’t know.”
Adrien stood.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
Thomas reached for his cane.
“I found her room empty. No blood. No struggle. Her passport was gone.”
Elena frowned.
“She ran again.”
“Maybe.”
Vivian looked at the photograph.
“Then why did my father think she died?”
“Because Conrad told him she had.”
Adrien stared at Thomas.
“What happened to Conrad afterward?”
“He came home.”
“Without her.”
“Yes.”
“And lived another seventeen years.”
“Yes.”
Adrien turned toward the chapel window.
For most of his life, he had thought Conrad grieved Isabella.
He remembered his father sitting alone on the anniversary of her death.
A glass of whiskey.
Her photograph beside him.
Adrien had mistaken obsession for grief.
Thomas spoke.
“There’s one place Isabella may have gone.”
Adrien turned.
“You waited until now?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“Where?”
Thomas looked at Elena.
“Gabriel knows.”
Elena shook her head.
“He said he didn’t.”
“Gabriel knows more than he remembers.”
“What does that mean?”
“Isabella never trusted addresses. She used music.”
Thomas tapped the four pages.
“The final three bars Gabriel taught you aren’t financial codes.”
Elena frowned.
“What are they?”
“A location.”
Adrien’s expression changed.
Thomas continued.
“Isabella taught Gabriel a system when he was a boy. Notes represented letters.”
Elena remembered something.
“My father used to make me play scales and name cities.”
Thomas nodded.
“He was teaching you the cipher without telling you.”
“Can you decode it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Only Isabella and Gabriel knew the key.”
Adrien looked toward the hospital.
“Then we ask Gabriel.”
They returned immediately.
Gabriel listened as Elena played the three bars.
Once.
Twice.
On the third time, his expression changed.
“Again.”
She played.
Gabriel whispered letters.
“B. E. T. H.”
Adrien waited.
Elena continued.
“L. E. H. E. M.”
“Bethlehem?” Vivian asked.
Gabriel nodded slowly.
“New Hampshire.”
Thomas sat down.
Adrien looked at him.
“You know it.”
“A small town in the White Mountains.”
Gabriel suddenly remembered.
“There was a house.”
Elena leaned closer.
“What house?”
“My grandmother Rose had a sister. Margaret. She owned a cabin outside Bethlehem.”
Adrien grabbed his coat.
Gabriel caught his sleeve.
“There’s something else.”
Adrien stopped.
Gabriel pointed toward the final measure.
“The last note isn’t part of the address.”
“What is it?”
Gabriel stared at Thomas.
“A warning.”
Thomas went pale.
“What warning?”
Gabriel whispered:
“Don’t bring Thomas.”
Nobody moved.
Thomas looked down.
“I suppose I earned that.”
Adrien left him behind.
By afternoon, Adrien, Elena, Vivian, and Daniel were driving north.
Six hours later, snow began falling over New Hampshire.
Elena watched it collect against the windshield.
Winter.
With snow.
The cabin stood beyond a narrow road among pine trees.
No lights.
Daniel checked the property first.
Empty.
Inside, dust covered everything.
But not enough.
Someone had been there recently.
A stack of firewood sat beside the stove.
Canned food in the pantry had expiration dates from that year.
Elena found a framed child’s drawing on the wall.
Three stick figures.
A woman.
A boy.
A little girl.
Above them, childish handwriting said:
MOM + ADRIEN + LUCY.
Elena touched it.
“I drew this.”
Adrien stared.
“You remember?”
“No.”
She turned it over.
On the back was a date.
Adrien swallowed.
His mother had asked a child who had never met him to draw him into their family.
Daniel called from the bedroom.
“Mr. Vale.”
They entered.
On the dresser sat a silver snowflake brooch identical to the one from Isabella’s coat.
Beside it was a recent newspaper.
Three weeks old.
Adrien picked it up.
Someone had circled an article about his engagement to Vivian.
Written beneath it in shaky handwriting were four words.
DON’T MARRY RICHARD’S DAUGHTER.
Vivian stepped backward.
Elena stared at the handwriting.
Adrien knew it immediately.
He had seen it on the cassette note.
His mother’s.
Then floorboards creaked behind them.
Daniel turned.
An elderly woman stood in the doorway.
White hair.
Gray sweater.
A scar along her left temple.
She looked at Elena first.
Then Vivian.
Finally Adrien.
Her hand rose to her mouth.
“Adrien?”
He couldn’t move.
The woman began to cry.
“My God.”
May you like
She took one trembling step toward him.
“My little boy came back.”
